Click and Other Stories
by TheEquestrianidiot 2.0
Summary: Gruesome tales and heartwarming romance! Whether it's flesh eating zombies, a cute little ship, or just a random one-shot, this story will be a series of little drabbles and stories put together for nothing other than your entertainment. Requests are open. Latest story, "Godzilla", based off a scene from the 2014 film of the same name.
1. Click

Click.

A small hand reached back into the box of shotgun shells.

Click.

Two. Six more.

Click.

The young boy looked off to his right. His sister had her shoulder pressed up against the front door.

Something was pounding on it from the other side.

Click.

He heard a familiar voice, grizzled and raspy. Grunkle Stan.

The voice gurgled and moaned from the other side of the fortified door.

Click.

Nails scattered onto the floor. A board came loose.

Click.

The boy shot an anxious look at the girl.

His hand scrambled for another shell.

Click.

Just one more-

Click.

The door's hinges snapped loose from its frame, collapsing onto the girl, a writhing mass of blood-stained, pasty colored skin pinning her down.

Mabel let out a terrified scream. Dipper struggled to pump the shotgun.

What was left of Stan craned its head towards Dipper. It let out a gurgling moan, blood frothing out of the massive gash in its throat. An ear-splitting blast, and the man's head exploded. The shotgun's recoil nearly knocked Dipper off his feet.

Mabel began to get up from under the blood-stained, wooden debris, but another creature was already coming through the doorway. This time, a large man, with dark, clotted blood dripping out from where its lower jaw used to be. Its eyes locked with Dipper's, and its strained groaning peaked in intensity.

Its torso exploded in a shower of bone fragments and rancid meat, spraying the two walking corpses behind it, who quickly began to take its place. Again, Dipper pumped the shotgun, another empty shell clattering onto the floor, joining the first. Another blast, and another creature fell, its leg severed at the hip.

Mabel stood up on shaky legs and prepared to run, but was soon dragged back down by a cold, rotting hand. A jawless torso gripped her leg with one arm, crawling towards her with the other. The girl uttered a panicked yell for help.

Dipper ejected another shell, then attempted to aim the shotgun at the crawling creature, the weapon shaking in his grip. As he fired, he felt a sharp pain in his wrist, involuntarily jerking the barrel to his right. A woman's midsection disappeared in a cloud of red mist.

His wrist now broken and useless, Dipper dropped the gun and sprinted over to his sister. He grabbed an outstretched hand with his good arm and began to pull with all his strength... but they were too strong, too many. Slowly, Mabel was being dragged into the growing crowd of the undead. Dipper tried to gain a foothold, but it wasn't enough. More lifeless hands latched onto the girl, dragging her further and further.

Dipper wouldn't let go. Tears in his eyes, he strained, pulled with everything he had.

Mabel called out to Dipper. She told him to go, to leave him, to run. Dipper shook his head frantically, and kept pulling. Mabel repeated herself, now yelling at the boy. For a moment, Dipper stood motionless. He looked around, scanning for an exit. They were coming through the windows now, pouring through every possible entrance. His eyes came to rest on the staircase. There was only one way to go. Up.

Tears still flowing, he looked back at Mabel. He said he was sorry, so sorry, then, reluctantly... he let go. Dipper looked away as his sister, his friend disappearing into the growing mass of writhing, dead flesh.

Dipper turned around and ran, ran as fast as he could, ignoring the terrible pain in his wrist, until everything was a blur. Next thing he knew, he was in his bedroom, back against the locked door, chest heaving as he panted heavily. He could hear them just outside, wet slabs of meat sloughing off as they dragged themselves up the stairs.

He looked around, again searching for a method of escape.

The window.

Dipper hurried to the window and smashed it out with the butt of the shotgun and looked down. It wasn't a long drop, and the bushes would soften the impact, but it would still hurt.

His feet dangled out first. There wasn't too much time now. They were at the door.

Bang. Rip. Snap. The door was smashed down, and the horde pushed themselves through the doorframe. It was now or never, the pain that could follow or not.

Dipper pushed out. The rush of air distracted him from a second blur of color below him, red and green.

"OW!"

"Shit!"

Someone cursed loudly as Dipper slammed his feet on top of them. He fell over, landing on his back as the person collapsed in front of him. Red hair spilled past the teenagers shoulders and face. She was quick though, spinning on the ground, and scrambled away, staring at Dipper with bright green eyes.

"Dipper!" Wendy Corduroy gasped, pushing herself to a stop, and clawing her way to him. "Dipper, what the heck?" she angrily scolded him at first.

"Wendy," Dipper tried saying her name, his voice shaking. There were too many things to be said, too many things to be asked.

"Hey," her voice calmed, soothing Dipper as she scanned around her. Dipper quickly followed her gaze, and saw shadows skulking closer in the light of the Mystery Shack lights. "Hey, get up dude. We can get out of this. C'mon," Wendy kneeled before him, and offered her hand.

"I'm sorry-"

"Not now," Wendy shook her head, "you can give me a massage for my back after this, "she told him as she lifted him up. Dipper nodded and felt the tiniest reassurance only a confident leader could inspire, "let's get your sister and anyone else who's not one of these bastards."

Dipper finally stood, and was ready to fall again.

His sister.

Mabel.

"She's..."

"Move!" Wendy pulled him away, and they ran over towards the darkened forest lining, hiding just behind the outhouse. "Okay, one sec," Wendy told Dipper, adjusting something unseen behind her, and then she kneeled to be level with him again "okay. Now, what was it?"

"Mabel's dead."

He had a moment of clarity as he informed her. It wasn't that he had just let his sister go. Dipper was never going to see his sister again. Ever. The only thing left was memories, and should the horde be kind enough to her body, a shambling flesh-eating monster resembling his loving Mabel. There was nothing but pain as his throat choked.

"Oh my god," Wendy's closed her eye lids tightly. She cupped her hand to her face, covering her tightly locked beautiful eyes. Dipper couldn't afford the strength to attempt holding the tears back. Silently he wept for the only person in his life that had been there for him more than anyone else.

"They got her," Dipper croaked, his vocal cords trembling, unable to speak properly.

"Dipper, I'm... I'm so sorry."

Wendy reached out, and pulled the tear stricken boy close to her. He felt her arms around him, tightly clutching his shoulders as she squeezed him. Something wet hit the fabric of his vest, soaking into his shoulders. Then she pushed away, wiping away at her face, and she looked into his eyes, pouring that grand strength she always held on reserved for Dipper.

"We're getting out of this, you got me?" Wendy quietly told him, "we're going to get into Stan's stupid car and we'll drive our way out of here. I can hotwire it and we can get the hell outta here."

"O-okay," Dipper nodded, sniffling as he let out a trembling sigh.

"Bud," Wendy told him, holding onto his shoulders, "we're in this together now. Okay? Us." Dipper nodded again. "No more guns- that just attracts more of them. If one get's in the way, get a shovel or something."

"Okay. I'm ready," Dipper nodded.

"Stay close," Wendy said as she stood. Dipper turned around the side of the outhouse. There were a few of those walking corpses, turned away and looking inside the building. Dipper managed to check on the window he had leapt out of: the group of flesh eaters had started looking outside, groaning and moaning their way around.

Wendy waved for him to follow, sticking to the forest edge. There, across the parking space was the lone red car.

Wendy crept low, constantly shifting her gaze between the walkers and the car, checking their progress closer to their one real means of transportation. They could see their image reflected on the side of the polished car, they were so close.

Wendy made for the vehicle in a quick burst, and opened the side door. Her luck would not suit them well- a large figure appeared on the other side, growling and clawing for them as it walked around. One of those monsters had spotted them.

"Shit!" Wendy shouted, uncertain what to do. She was halfway in the car. Dipper wasn't close enough to jump in yet.

"Wendy!" Dipper called, louder than he wanted. The single walker turned it's gaze to him, and Dipper heard similar growls behind him. He had alerted them to his presence. "Just get it started! I'll keep them busy!"

"Dipper!" Wendy shouted, but Dipper refused to let her defend him any more. He needed to play hero just for a bit. Just for the time being. He charged forward and slammed the side door shut, and leapt aside as the figure swiped for him.

"Get it started! I'll-"

Dipper's mouth fell open. The figure, still stumbling towards him with his mouth hung open, was Soos.

"No, Soos," Dipper gasped, crawling backwards. The entire stomach of the poor handyman had been split open, revealing still dark crimson innards that had been torn out and left hanging hap-hazard from his wide tear. There was no recognition to Dipper in Soos's eyes, as had been with everyone else who Dipper had seen before becoming one of them.

Behind him more of them tumbled closer. His hands grasped behind him, trying to stand himself up. Instead he found something smooth and cylindrical.

A shovel.

_This is for the zombies, _a familiar, friendly voice rang through Dipper's head.

"You would have wanted me to stop you," Dipper told the lurching body of his former friend. Dipper grasped the shovel as best he could, trying to swallow the pain in his wrist and fingers. He stumbled around the former Soos. The man was easily twice as tall as Dipper, but a shovel would close that distance.

He had treated Dipper like a friend from the moment they met.

Dipper took a step backwards, his feet wide apart. The car next to him spluttered, but refused to turn on.

Soos had never asked Dipper for anything, but always helped him.

Dipper readied his arms, a swing prepared. Car lights flickered into the dark night around him.

Soos considered the twins like extended family. Never once as anything other than best friends.

Dipper swung as hard as he could manage.

The edge of the shovelhead split across Soos's neck, slashing open the neck viciously. Metal bit into the spine, imbedding itself deep into the nerves that allowed the body to operate past death. Soos halted, a Shovel buried into the side of his throat, and fell to the side, twitching.

More were coming. Dipper saw their silhouettes against the remaining light of the Mystery Shack, stumbling closer. His hands were raw and torn from the swing, and the shovel was clearly locked into bone and marrow. He was defenseless.

"DIPPER!"

The side door swung open again, and Wendy waved to rush in. The El Diablo was running.

Dipper took his feet and darted past the closest zombie and threw himself into the car. Struggling to find a seat, he scrambled to close the door behind him.

Click.

The door locked in place just as the undead around him clambered onto the car. Clawing at the glass, climbing onto the back window, they wanted in.

"Hold on!" Wendy shouted, the car ready for action, she put the gear from parked to four wheel, and slammed on the gas. One zombie fell to the lurching car's forward momentum, quickly crushed and left a puddle of rotting blood and guts in its wake.

"We're getting out?" Dipper asked, sliding a seatbelt over his body as the car started making it's first turn.

"Yeah!" Wendy hollered, almost bouncing in her seat, elated to survive the encounter. The engine roared with triumph, speeding ahead. "We're getting out of this! WE'RE GETTING OUT-"

There had still been one on the ceiling. It slipped down the front of the car, unable to stop itself. Wendy screamed along with Dipper, and she tried slamming on the breaks. The dirt road was mixed with blood as the zombie hit the ground and was pinned between tires and gravel. The El Diablo wouldn't stop moving.

Off the path. Into the woods.

BOOM.

Dipper felt an explosion of air near his face. The world had gone from zooming to entirely still in a split second. His chest ached, probably from the pull the seatbelt as the car slammed into a tree.

"Wendy?" Dipper asked. No response.

He turned to the driver side. She wasn't there.

There was a small hole through the window, split glass and slivers of blood running down the sides of fissures in the windshield. Looking past the shattered window, Dipper saw a figure pulling itself up against a tree.

"No," Dipper scrambled to undo himself from the seatbelt.

Click.

He was free, and managed to push open the door. Walking along side of the blockading tree, Dipper found the last survivor of the night along side himself.

"Dipper," Wendy groaned. Huge gashes torn across her face and arms, blood pouring from her incisions freely. One of her arms had a fractured bone protruding from the side, piercing out of her morbidly like a malformation. Her eyes fluttered, staring at him.

"Wendy!" Dipper gasped, running and sliding to be aside her.

What could he do? What magic could undo this damage? What god could send a miracle to save her? What devil would Dipper have to make a deal with to save Wendy?

Strong Wendy. Survivor Wendy. Dying Wendy.

His Wendy.

"I... I don't know what to do," Dipper managed to splutter, more tears falling down his face, refusing to look anywhere on her but her eyes. Blood splattered on her face, and her already pale skin was growing paler.

She was bleeding out.

"Hey," Wendy's still functioning arm shaking reached out, and after a struggling moment, landed a hand on his head, "I'll let your sister... know you never gave up."

"Wendy, please don't leave me."

"I can't go anywhere else, buddy," Wendy told him.

"I don't want you to go away," Dipper cried, starting to hold her hand against his cheek.

"I'd promise you I wouldn't go," Wendy managed, her eyes starting to close, "but I could never lie to my... my man," Wendy chuckled to Dipper, and gasped. "Oh... oh boy."

"Wendy?" Dipper asked.

Her eyes lost their light. She was gone.

Dipper bellowed, a crushed, beaten, broken heart tearing into the horrible night as the last person who he could have hoped to escape with died in front of him. The girl he trusted with his life.

The girl he loved.

Dipper fell back. There was no where else now. No one left to rely on. The world was ending, and he was the last person to see it all collapse before the inevitable took hold.

Feeling drained from him. Dipper felt the acceptance; of struggling for life becoming obsolete.

No more.

Dipper slowly made his way over to Wendy's body and sat down, staring blankly at the ground. He felt numb. Empty.

Suddenly, he noticed an old revolver in the back of Wendy's jeans. He pulled it out, the blank, lifeless look never leaving his face.

Absentmindedly, he slid the cylinder out from the gun. One bullet.

The number echoed through his otherwise empty mind.

Just one bullet, he thought.

He slid the cylinder back into the pistol with a click.

Just one bullet.

He heard the groaning approach rapidly. It sounded like a full hoard.

Just one bullet. The phrase began to lose meaning.

He pulled the revolver's hammer back with his good thumb.

Just one bullet.

He saw seven of them shuffle towards him, out of the corner of his eye.

Just one bullet.

Dipper felt the barrel press against his temple. He could smell their breath.

Just. One. Bullet.

He began to squeeze the trigger.

Just one-

A wave of incredible pain shot through Dipper's skull. For a moment, his senses were completely overwhelmed, his ears ringing and head throbbing with a splitting headache. But then, he heard... music. It was... oddly familiar. Suddenly, he recognized it; it was from a movie, probably a favorite of his, but... what, exactly? And why was it playing now? Shouldn't he be, you know, dead? Perplexed, he forced his eyes open, immediately focusing them on the source of the noise.

The end credits to 'Night of the Living Dead' scrolled down the TV screen.

Dipper stared silently for a moment, processing the situation... then chuckled quietly, part relief, part wry amusement. He picked himself up off the floor - undoubtedly having fallen off the recliner moments before - and, rubbing the newly-formed lump on his head, looked around at the shards of the glass bowl of snacks he had apparently brought with him. Just as he began to consider exactly how pissed Grunkle Stan would be, (and exactly what he'd do to avoid having to clean up his mess) he noticed another noise, just barely audible over the TV. He immediately recognized the girl snoring. Just to his left, sprawled lazily on the recliner. Wendy lay, her chest heaving slightly as she snored softly, a small puddle of drool collecting under her.

Dipper smiled slightly. He knew what he had was just a stupid dream... but it was still a relief to see his friend not being eaten alive by rotting corpses.

For a moment, Dipper considered waking Wendy up, maybe getting her to help clean up the shattered bowl, then heading up to his nice, cozy bed... but he just didn't have the heart to disturb the girl. And, besides, cleaning up would be the responsible thing to do.

He saw the blanket laying on the side of one of the kitchen chairs. Walking towards it, he pulled it down, and draped it over the sleeping girl's figure.

Shrugging, Dipper brushed a few crumbs off the recliner, clearing away a little spot for himself. He hopped onto the armrest and lay back, closing his eyes.

In the sudden absence of thought and vision, images from his nightmare poured back into his mind: his sister being dragged off to be eaten alive; Stan's face, with loose, wet flesh hanging from his cheeks; the bedroom door finally snapping under the weight of a half-dozen walking cadavers, Wendy's dying face, the pain of that one bullet, and once again, the terrified face of a young girl facing a horrifying, inevitable death. Somehow, that image, the sensation of releasing his grip, abandoning Mabel to her death, the horrible realism of it all... that was the worst. He couldn't get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

Thus, he lay there for several minutes, fitfully and futilely attempting to drift off to sleep. Finally, he gave up, and opened his eyes... which immediately focused on the still figure across the recliner. Once again, he was aware of Wendy's presence, and, suddenly, he felt... safe. The images in his head disappeared, his body calmed, and his eyelids grew heavy.

Once again, Dipper drifted off to sleep.

Wendy rubbed her eyes, waiting a moment for them to adjust to the relatively blinding light in front of her. She sighed. Dipper left the TV on.

She reached out a hand, groggily groping around for the remote. Wooden table... cushion... boy... boy? She looked to her side and saw Dipper proped up against the armrest. She smiled as she noticed the blanket laying across her. Suddenly, she didn't know why, but she placed an arm around her young friend and pulled him in close. She felt... Safe. Protected. The boy shifted and absentmindedly snuggled in close to her. She chuckled. Out of a small gut feeling, she lifted his cap and placed a small kiss on his head. He sighed as she saw a gentle smile appear on his face. "Goodnight, Dipper."

Now where was... Ah, remote.

Without hesitation, she pointed the remote towards the glowing plastic box.

Click.

* * *

><p><em>Had you guys going there, didn't I? I <em>_actually almost cried writing this out. And the scene with Wendy that EZB did . . . . *Sniffs loudly* It's just so feel-y! _

_Anyway, this was the first, and hopefully not the last, story that I introduced for a series of, w__ell oneshots! Hopefully you enjoyed it just as much as I did! And don't worry, more are coming, and requests are open. Just, try to refrain from Pinecest, please. Anything else is fair game. Thanks again to EZB for all the help and remember to stay awesome, and I __will see YOU . . . in the next chapter. Bye-bye! (No, I'm not Markiplier. I just love that saying!)_


	2. The Big Burger

_I own nothing._

* * *

><p>"I just can't believe it…" said an astonished Dipper Pines, amazed at what he held in hands. It was something so amazing, he could hardly speak of it's magnificent glory. He only held such a sacred object in his dreams. The young boy could scarcely believe he held it in his fingers<p>

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked an equally-astounded Mabel Pines, staring at it with large, watery eyes as the holy item shined in the light. This was something she had heard about, but she dismissed it as simply being a mythical fairytale among the public.

But no, it was true. This miraculous object, did, in fact, exist, and her brother was clutching it in his hands.

"Dipper…" the peppy pre-teen managed to choke out before screaming in joy, "read it out loud one more time…"

With trembling hands, the young detective held up the beloved paper and read it's magnificent text out loud, in a dreamy, trance-like way;

_"The Big Burger has given out free coupons for all their good customers so they can enjoy five free delicious Heart-Destroyer burgers with a side of delicious French fries that are dripping with grease and oil and quadruple-sized sugary drinks filled with high fructose corn syrup. Come by six o' clock on Wednesdays and Sunday evenings to claims your meal(s)."_

Mabel gasped with a colossal grin on her face, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she fell onto the floor, with her arms on her chest and both hands resting on top of one another.

Dipper's arms trembled as he held the fast-food certificate in his hands. Mabel was so excited by it that she began drooling a little with her mouth slightly hung open, making gurgling noises.

"Man," stated Dipper, eyeing it like a pirate eyes his gold. "Now I know how that elf-guy with that sword that has to go and save that princess chick in those Nintendo games feels like when he holds that three-piece golden triangle thingy over his head."

Mabel stayed on the floor, with her eyes closed, still cherishing the magical sensation of those powerful words inscribed on the coupon. She began drooling even more as she imagined the scrumptious and gargantuan cheeseburger dripping with grease hot from the grill.

Dipper snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "Hey Mabel!"

Mabel opened one eye, and said, "What, bro? Can't you see I'm busy drooling over here?"

Dipper turned his entire body, and waved the golden coupon in the air, "I got an idea. Let's use this coupon, get some free food!"

"No way!" cried Mabel, sitting up and flaring her nostrils "We're not actually gonna use it, it's designed to just look at it and taste the food with your imagination."

Mabel fell back on the floor with another mammoth and silly grin on her face, dreaming up her meal and smacking her lips at the thought of the juiciness of the burger when she took a bite.

Dipper groaned and slammed his forehead. "No, Mabel, we can get free meals with this thing. I'm hungry, and I'm gonna use it."

Mabel, once again, sat up quickly and flashed Dipper a mean glare. "No way," began Mabel, getting up to her feet, "I'll challenge you for it."

Dipper arched his eyebrow, and he smiled a bit. "Ok, then!" replied Mabel, nodding his head." Ok, then. Pick your poison…"

**Dipper and Mabel both stared each other down like dueling samurais in a very lousy old Japanese B-movie.**

"Ready…" began Mabel, smiling wickedly, as she assumed that she had this small contest in the bag. "Set…"

Dipper, on the other hand, looked much more relaxed than confident. He had a small grin on his face, and his eyes were half-closed, showing no signs of hostility, worry, or competitiveness. In fact, he was too relaxed.

"Go!"

The "no-blinking" contest had begun. Mabel stared at Dipper with her eyes wide open, smirking at the thought that Dipper would not be able to resist the burning of his eyes when they were dry. Mabel stared, anxiously awaiting her brothers submission. However, Dipper remained as still as a statue, still with that small smirk and his eyes half-closed, almost as if he were sleepy.

"Heh-heh-heh," snickered Mabel, eyeing her brother fiendishly. "It won't be long, now…"

_Ten minutes later…_

Mabel's eyes were bloodshot and tears were streaming out of her eyes like waterfalls, and a light sweat had begun to drench her face. She trembled violently, and she tightly ground her teeth.

Dipper, on the other hand, remained perfectly still, and he did not move an inch, and he still had the same exact expression on his face as he did ten minutes ago (bored, sleepy, etc.).

Mabel, by now, had her eyelids only meters apart, and she could no longer bear the burning pain from her non-blinking eyes. Her eyes shut, and Mabel screamed as she slammed her hands over her eyelids, and she threw herself to the ground.

Dipper still did not move a muscle, however. He maintained that same smirk, same stature, and position. For an entire ten minutes, the boy hadn't flinched at all.

But just then, the real Dipper's head popped into the room, and he observed Mabel on the floor, screaming her lungs out and rolling in the floor, with her hands over her eyes.

"Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!" giggled Dipper, covering his mouth with his hand.

His voice was drowned out by Mabel's cries, therefore, he took an advantage of this. He leapt inside the room, grabbed the dummy, tossed it behind the recliner, and imitated the pose of the dummy as perfectly as he could.

Finally, Mabel stopped hollering and shrieking, sat up, and rubbed her eyes. Dipper grinned as he observed his defeated sister on the floor.

"Heh-heh-heh!" he chortled victoriously, as he pulled out the coupon. Mabel shook her head, and she uttered, "Ugh. Alright, alright…you win…"

Mabel stood up, closed her eyes and began a speech;

"You've proven yourself to be a worthy opponent, dear brother. You triumphed over me, fair and square. I truthfully and humbly admit defeat to you, my noble challenger. I feel proud to have dueled you, for I have learned a valuable lesson; Patience always wins in the end, never by—"

"Mabel, stop whining and come on!" urged Dipper, his head popping out from the doorway as he had already begun to leave.

As they were walking out the door, and Dipper snatched up the cart keys. But just as he did, his Grunkle Stan's voice came sailing out from his office.

"What're you two doing with the cart keys?"

Dipper's hands hovered over the keys as he froze and heard their grunkle's loud, abrasive voice echo throughout the halls.

"We're just, uh, gonna get some free food at The Big Burger with this coupon we've got, so…"

"'The Big Burger huh? How many free meals can you get with it?"

"You can get…" Dipper paused for a moment, and he whipped out the coupon, re-reading how many free meals they could both receive. "…five of them."

"In that case, since you're taking my cart, order me a Heart-Destroyer Burger with a large side of fries and a mint-vanilla shake!"

Wendy's voice suddenly came sailing in as well from another side of the shack. "Get me one of those too, except make my milkshake strawberry-flavored!"

Soos's voice then came echoing through the halls also. "Hey dudes, I heard you're getting some free food! Could you get me the same thing, except make my milkshake stirred, not shaken? Thanks, dudes!"

Dipper and Mabel both groaned and slapped their foreheads. Not only did they have to order for others, but they had to waste their entire coupon.

"Great," whined Mabel, picking up the keys and inserting them into the keyhole of the door. "Now we have to remember what they ordered."

She turned to Dipper and asked, "Do you remember what Grunkle Stan wanted?"

"Ummmmm…" pondered Dipper, as he and Mabel got into the cart. "I think he said he wanted a milkshake with the bee's knees or something weird like that. I dunno, it's 'old-guy' talk."

As they both pulled out of the driveway and were on the one of the back roads, Mabel began rummaging through the cart's glove box materials hidden in the backseats.

"Uh, hey Mabel?" began Dipper, as he stared at his glanced over at his sister, "I don't think Grunkle Stan would like what you're doing."

"Relax, bro-bro," declared Mabel, "I'm just lookin' at some stuff."

Dipper shook his head in annoyance, and he groaned.

As Dipper got to a red light, and he stared at it impatiently, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. As he stared at it, with all of his attention focused on the light, he heard a loud whirring sound right next to his ear.

His eyes shifted towards the right, and he saw a large, metallic drill swirling right next to his head. Dipper cried out and shoved himself away from the drill.

Mabel cackled as she held the cordless, electric drill and pushed the trigger carelessly. Dipper sighed and he gripped the steering wheel once again.

"Mabel!" scowled Dipper, "Put that thing down! You can hurt someone! This isn't a cartoon!" Mabel stopped cackling as she stared at the drill and continuously pressed the trigger over and over again.

"This thing's cool, isn't it?" exclaimed Mabel. She then put it on the ground where she had found it, and she found another tool: a saw. She waved it around and it made a wobbling sound as it vibrated. Dipper groaned and leaned away from it.

When they finally got to the restaurant, Dipper turned around and stated, "Mabel, we're here. Stop playing with those tools and come take your order! And quit swinging that thing around, you can cut yourself or something!"

"Jeez, broseph," complained Mabel, as she swung the saw back and forth as if it were some kind of magic wand. "You need to chill."

Dipper slapped his forehead in annoyance, and he drove to the drive-through.

"You really need to calm down, Dipper. There's nothing to worry ab..."

Mabel suddenly stopped talking, and something sounding like water constantly dripping from a hole in the ceiling began hitting the carpet floor.

"Uh…Dipper?" asked Mabel, speaking very slowly, "…Would you mind asking for some extra napkins?..."

* * *

><p>They both gazed at the menu, reading down it's list and discussing what kind of side dishes they could get.<p>

"Hmmmm…" pondered the boy, "maybe we should get onion rings?"

"Bleh!" wretched Mabel, clutching her stomach and sticking out her tongue, "You know I hate onions! And we're not shopping for jewelry Dipper, we're at The Big Burger! This is a fast-food joint!"

Dipper rolled his eyes and stuck his head out of the cart. Just as he was about to speak, Mabel interrupted by saying, "No Dipper, wait! Let me order!"

"No way!" declared Dipper, turning his head to the excited Mabel. "Remember what happened last time we were at a restaurant?"

Mabel put a hand to her chin, looking off into her space as her mind faded into the deep, dark corners of her memory…

_Six weeks ago…_

Mabel and Dipper were dining at a luxurious buffet, which had an international theme to it. It had Mexican flags, a sushi bar, German chocolate cake, fancy French dishes (which, in Stan's own words, "tasted like crap"), American-made sodas, Italian pasta, and various other dishes from foreign countries.

Mabel scampered to her seat, clutching a white, large plate mounted with a vast variety of foreign delicacies. She had French fries, American steak, Mexican tacos, Italian pizza, Chinese fried rice, German Sauerkraut, and various other things.

Dipper simply piled up his plate with something that looked like barbecued sausage, drenched in some type of sauce. It looked delicious, and Dipper was first willing to try something simple before engorging himself with the other foreign delicacies.

They both sat down, and they both began stuffing their faces. Mabel shoved her fork into some spaghetti, twirled it, and began noisily slurping up the long, yellow noodles. Dipper shoved his fork into one of the sausages, and he took a big chomp out of it, tasting the sauces and the meat.

"Hmmmm," uttered Dipper, while chewing on the food. "This tastes good, but I can put my finger on the meat."

Mabel lifted her head, and with a goofy look on her face and pieces of food splattered all around her mouth, she replied, in a deep, goofy voice, "Wha'?"

Dipper shoved his teeth into another sausage, and put the entire thing in his mouth, chewing it thoroughly, tilting his head left and right, deciding what the meat might be.

Mabel wiped her face with the elegant, silk tablecloth ( which cost a fortune, and she left a very nasty stain of grease on it), and she asked, "Well, what did the sign say that was next to each plate?"

Dipper swallowed and said, "I dunno. There wasn't a sign on it." He stared back down at his plate, and he prepared to pick up another sausage, when a short, Italian chef with a long, moustache with curls at the end of it and a large, poofy chef's hat strode past them, and he caught a glimpse at Dipper's meal.

But before he did, Mabel said, "I think it's a type of smoked sausage. I've had some of those before. Don't worry about it, it's probably just meat from a pig or something."

The Italian man instantly realized what Dipper was eating, and he quickly scurried over to him with his stubby legs and pointed boots.

"Excuse-a me, sir," said the chef with a thick, Italian accent, "But you're-a eating-a the meat-a for the dogs-a!"

Dipper's pupils shrunk, and his mouth hung open, letting a glob of some of his un-thoroughly chewed meat onto the plate. He stared down at the sausages, now looking quite repulsive. He lifted his eyes and he stared at Mabel, who was staring at her food just as he was.

Dipper simply pushed his plate away slightly in front of him, took a very deep breath, stood up very slowly, and he hollered, "Check, please!"

* * *

><p>"…What? How was that my fault!"<p>

"Because," declared Dipper, giving Mabel an annoyed look, "It was your idea to tell me that it was pig meat."

"Yeah, but you should've asked a chef!" snapped back Mabel, returning the look.

"But you're the one who told me to 'not worry about it!'"

"That doesn't mean you should've believe me!"

The static from the ancient speaker came to life, interrupting their heated debate, and the employee asked, "Welgum uh awker coroa ay I meh orruh?"

Dipper scratched his head, arched his eyebrow, and replied, "Um, could you repeat that?"

The deep-voiced, mumbly speak repeated, "ay I meh orruh?"

"Uhhhhh….what?"

"You deaf? Ay I meh orruh!"

Dipper threw his head in irritation and moaned. He stared in front of him and he could see a female employee shooing away the previous one. She ripped off the headset from his head, and placed it on herself, and she said, "Hi, welcome to The Big Burger, may I take your order?"

Dipper sighed and rolled his eyes and said, "Finally!" under his breath. He leaned out of the window and said, "Uh, yeah, could I get five 'Heart-Destroyer Burgers', all of them with a large fries?"

"How would you like the shakes?"

Dipper shut one of his eyes in thought, and he remembered what the others ordered.

"Uh, make one mint-vanilla, one of them strawberry, and one of them stirred, not 'shaken'?"

"Of course. Anything else?

"Hmmmm….nope. That's it."

The two of them drove up to the next window, anxious to get their hands on their food. They envisioned a delicious burger, drenched in mayo and ketchup, their bags soaked from the greasiness of the fries. The shakes would be made out of a sugary substance, delicious and not-at-all healthy for you. By then, their mouths were watery and their lips were smacking.

When they reached the window, Dipper said, "Uh, yeah, I've got this coupon and…"

But before he could finish his sentence, the cashier screamed, "Don't call me fat! Just gimme a second!"

It was a paranoid teenage nerd with his face covered with acne and hideous braces upon his teeth. His skin was pale and red freckles engulfed his nose and the top of his cheeks. His hair was a fiery orange and was very curly.

Dipper just stared at him, his mouth slightly hanging open and his eyes peeled in shock, still clutching the coupon in between his index finger and thumb.

The anxious teen mashed in buttons into the register, and with a trembling voice, he said, "Th-th-th-th-that'll be f-f-f-four-freakin'-dollars and thirty-cents…"

"Uh, yeah," said Dipper, handing him the coupon, "I got one of these, so…"

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! JUST HANG ON! GOD, WHY DO PEOPLE GOTTA BE SO NOSY!"

Dipper and Mabel both turned to each other, amazed at how paranoid and nutty this employee was. He snatched the coupon, and ran into the back, like a madman. The next few seconds was an awkward silence between the two.

Finally, the boy came back, and he handed them the food, dripping with grease just as they had hoped for. They smiled and licked their lips as they grabbed the food.

Just as Dipper and Mabel were about to observe it, the boy began exclaiming, "You're all the same, ya little piggies! Always comin' here with ya little coupons and furry little sisters! Let me tell ya, I promise to get revenge on the world for what they did to my cat's grandpa! You'll see…YOU'LL ALL SEEEEEE!"

Dipper and Mabel stared at him, wide-eyed, confused, and scared. Dipper instantly shoved his foot on the acceleration and sped off, leaving the crazy teen in a cloud of smoke behind them. Behind them, they could still hear him guffawing maniacally.

Mabel and Dipper finally returned home, with their delicious treasure in their hands, excited to sink their teeth into the burgers and fries. It felt heavy, so they MUST be large and delicious.

Dipper and Mabel both burst through the door, their mouths watering and their tongues hanging out, ready to devour their delicious meals. Wendy, Soos, and Stan scampered into the room, with large grins on their faces and rubbing their hands together, just as ready as the pair of twins.

They placed the food and drinks on the tables, and began yanking out their burgers wrapped in foil and their fries.

Dipper unwrapped his the quickest. The burger looked half as decent as he had hoped. He tilted his head as he observed it's moist bun, and the lettuce and tomatoes looked like they were just thrown on. The boy lifted up the top bun to witness his beloved cheese melted onto the patty.

But no. Staring back at him was the hollow and blank brownness of the patty that had spatula marks on it. It looked so empty and lifeless without cheese.

"Ugggh!" cried out Dipper, throwing his head back in frustration and shaking his fist. "They forgot the cheese! Crap!"

"That's nothing!"

Mabel's voice sailed up from behind him, as she held a meat patty covered with lettuce, cheese, pickles, tomatoes, mayonnaise and ketchup… but no buns. "They forgot the buns!" Mabel bit her lower lip, squinted her eyes, and began squealing angrily.

Dipper blinked twice, and he stared down at his own burger. Just then, another voice shook the entire house from the top to it's bottom.

"WHAT? WHAT IS THIS! THERE'S A DEAD RAT IN MY BURGER!"

Stan held up his burger, revealing the tiny gray rat with a long, furless tail resting on it's side on the patty. He shook the burger violently and hollered at Dipper and Mabel, "IS THIS HOW YOU GET YOUR SICK, TWISTED LAUGHS! BY PUTTING DECEASED RODENTS INTO PEOPLE'S CHEESEBURGERS!"

Dipper stood up and shrugged, "But-but-but Grunkle Stan …we didn't do it! I swear! Mabel and I just…"

Wendy voice suddenly uttered, "There's a dead cockroach in my milkshake." Wendy put the lid back on the cup, closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Seriously, guys? Not cool." Wendy Mabel spoke and defended herself. "Skips, me and Dipper didn't do anything! Honest! All we did was…"

Soos walked up behind them and said, "Uuhhhh, dudes?"

He turned the bag over to the open side, and a bunch of rocks came tumbling out. The cup was just a cup full of pebbles, and his fries were a bunch of ball-point pens.

All three turned to Dipper and Mabel, their angered faces spoke for themselves, demanding an explanation for all of this.

Dipper and Mabel turned to each other, baffled by what was going on. They didn't do anything. All they did was order the food. They didn't pull off any pranks or anything of the sort. All they wanted was a good, greasy, heart-attack inducing meal from The Big Burger.

"But…But…" stuttered Dipper, pathetically trying to defend himself. "But…I…"

Everyone threw their food on the table and stormed out of there, grumbling about their twisted practical jokes.

Mabel approached Dipper and stood next to him. She crossed her arms, shut her eyes, and shook her head slowly. "See that, Dipper? I told you, coupons are meant to be stared at, not used…"


	3. Slender

_He had forgotten. Such was the curse. The coughing had died, and this was good news. Yet he still searched for his friend, unknowingly searching for one who was already lost._

_And so it was; the knocks came in rapid secession, sealing his fate tighter with each rasp. His hair stood on end as he reached out, pressing his hand to the door. All around him, the darkness seemed to be closing in, choking him. With a deep breath, he pressed on the knob, twisting it and slowly opening letting the chilled night air in. And so it was_.

* * *

><p>"Wendy?"<p>

Wendy fell to her back as she gripped her chest. "Ack! Dipper, don't do that!" she said. Her breaths were sporadic, scattered even.

"Oh, sorry," Dipper said as he stared down at her with a shocked expression. "I didn't mean to startle you, but did you find anything yet?"

Wendy rolled over and pushed herself off the floor. Turning around, she placed her fallen cap back onto her head and propped herself back up onto the study podium located in the center of the library where she and he friend were studying. One of the old lights was still flickering on and off, but she wasn't sure how long the light would last. She shook her head and slammed old, dusty tome she was reading closed and looked up and out the window in front of her. Dust had accumulated on it, no doubt from the page after page of grime in the book.

"No," she said, looking back down to the tome. It was old, bound with some sort of cloth and stitched with twine. Cracks ran down its front, where, in faded letters was Of the Forests. She and Dipper had been at the Gravity Falls library for a few hours, looking through various books and articles in hope that they would find something that would help in there current investigation.

Dipper visibly slumped at her response.

"Hey, it's ok Dipper. We may not find anything right away, but I'm not saying something isn't out there about what's going on."

Dipper sighed. "I know, I know. It's just, I'd really like to know what happened. No one just up and disappears. Not in this town."

"I know, Dipper. But we've been at this for hours. You need a break. Look, I'm gonna go ahead and call it quits for the night. And you need to too. You need your sleep."

Dipper look up at the girl and sighed. "Ok," he said.

"Cools. I'm gonna go check out this book and I'll see you tomorrow, okay? This thing was really interesting."

"Ok, Wendy. I'll see you later."

The night seemed to be like any other: the street lamps were dimly shining, the stars were brightly twinkling, the streets were empty and the town was still.

However, a thick, pale fog was just beginning to creep in, splitting down the streets like spiny tendrils, and covering the ground in a soft white glow. It breathed its way in, pulsing and throbbing like it was alive. Lamp after lamp was enveloped in its haze, their lights dimming to but a distant flicker. The town soon seemed much darker than before, and Wendy could hardly see what lay across the street.

She shook her head and walked away. "I wish the news would get these things right, instead of saying it'll be clear all night," she grumbled. Reaching her house a few minutes later, she opened the door and stepped into the empty house. Her father and brothers were out having some "Man Time" so she had the house all to herself. The lights here were significantly darker than in the old library, but when she squinted, she found that she could see. Swerving past the round table in the center of the room, she walked into her kitchen, and cracked open the fridge. Light poured out from inside, making her recoil. Her eyes clenched shut and her face scrunched up as the cold air wrapped around her.

As she opened her eyes, she muttered an inaudible word and began shifting through the various jars, cans, plates and food in the chilly box. "Jelly... bananas... Ah, there we go," she said with a slow nod as she grabbed a ceramic plate. She took it, shut the fridge door, and sat the plate down on the table.

Atop the plate was a small salad, something she had ordered from a local restaurant a day ago. Her stomach gave a low growl as she looked down at the plate of crispy greens and fresh tomatoes. With a bit of croutons, cheese, nuts, and some ham, she was good to go.

It wasn't a long meal - she finished it in almost fifteen minutes. Her stomach gave a satisfied gargle as she reclined in one of the kitchen chairs, exhausted from all the studying. "I think I'll study the effects of a good bath next," she said with a giggle.

Standing up, she took her plate and dropped it in the sink, before turning back to the doorway and sluggishly dragging herself out of the kitchen.

~X~

Wendy reclined in the steaming water, letting loose a long sigh. She sank into the ceramic tub, a smile on her face.

"I'm alone, I had a good dinner, and I'm done studying with Dipper. . ." she told herself, ticking the objects off of an imaginary checklist.

The window beside her - foggy though it was - still gave her a clear view of the fog as it continued to creep onward. She gave the rolling clouds a once-over before ignoring them completely and laying her head back.

She blinked, looking back to the window.

The fog continued to roll in, but that wasn't all. There was something else, something solid in the haze. She squinted and pressed her nose to the glass, but all she could see was a shadow. And as the streetlamps were devoured by the low cloud, she saw even less than that.

So she slowly turned from the window with a shrug. Whatever it was, was lost in the mist. "Not my concern," she muttered as she slipped lower into the water.

~X~

When she had finished with her bath, she made her way back into the main room, a large grin on her face. Her eyelids were barely staying open, but she pushed forward still. Out of the bathroom she went, leaving little prints of water behind her feet. She stepped into the kitchen, and finally, into the living room itself.

She stopped dead in her tracks. A strange marking was carved into the her door, glowing in the dim light. She cocked her head and leaned forward. It was black, oily even, though it did not create a rainbow sheen. It was simply a shiny black.

As she headed towards it, her eyes cleared and she soon found it to be a small circle no larger than her palm. She even pressed her hand against it to check. When she pulled her hand away, she examined dual lines crisscrossing through the center of the circle, their color the same, greasy black as the circle.

She sneered and backed away. Her neck hairs stood on end, and her hand tingled slightly.

Shaking her head and grumbling, she turned to the window and pressed her nose to it. The fog had since taken over the town, clogging her view with a pale smog. Two or three distant lamps flickered occasionally, but other than that there was no movement...

Or was there?

She squinted and bit her lip. Far away, almost completely blurred by the smog, a man was slowly sauntering away. She could make out no details, and just as soon as she had seen it, it was gone in the haze.

Wendy pushed herself away from the window, carefully turning around. Her eyes landed on a wooden table by the window, or more precisely, the book atop it. Drawing in a deep breath of the warm air, she took a few strides towards it, then stopped. One final glance over her shoulder, and she checked the outside again. Nothing but mist.

So she walked to the book, sitting in a chair and flipped open the book. Page after page, dust plume after dust plume, and she landed back where she had started hours before, in the early afternoon. Its ink was dry and fading, and its paper was dusty and jaded, but she made due.

_Chapter IX,_

_Of the one with no name,_

_Four score, and the village of Sunnyside was at peace. They knew not much of what lay beyond, being but a simple farming town._

Wendy huffed and gritted her teeth. "Yeah, good for them." She flipped a few more pages, their age obvious in the crackling sound they made as they fell.

Her eyes traced the top line of this new page with determination.

_...for he was not lame. The forest beyond was dark and thick. Thusly, he and his companion prepared for a long venture._

She skipped to the next page.

_And so it was._

"What?" She leaned forward and reread the line. Then, she scowled and slammed the book. "Who in the hell rips out pages of a book?"

Turning away, she stormed back over to the door, getting very close to it and inspecting the symbol. She was just about to tap it with her foot, when there was a slight tickle in her throat. She gave a single cough, then went back to examining the door. But then the tickle came back, and she coughed again.

One cough, then another. Soon, she was hacking, tossing her head down to the floor and wheezing. That tickle festered into a burn, and her coughs grew dry and raspy. Arching her back, she jerked her head down and gave another cough. Her face grew red and strained, and her body began to shake. Her lungs were running out of air, and her head grew light. But then, they stopped.

She let her body relax as she gulped. The sudden relief brought an odd smile to her face. She tilted her head back, letting her throat recover from the spasms.

Her eye cracked open. Something was at the window.

Wendy snapped her head back down.

It was gone.

Chills ran up her spine as she charged back to her chair and leaned towards the glass panel. Whatever had been there was gone in a flash. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her temples, rubbing them in slow circles. With a sigh, she told herself, "I ought to get some sleep..."

Eyes open once more, Wendy turned away from the window and book, walking back into the center of the room. She hoisted herself up onto the round decorative table, taking in a long, heavy breath.

A low, long churning sound came from her gut. She wrapped her arm around it and bent forward, giving yet another single cough. Biting her lip and closing her eyes, she moaned. "Day old salad..."

She coughed again, this one quieter than the rest. Sniffling, she sat back up. From the corner of her eye, it she saw something. An indescribable something.

But when she turned to look at it, it vanished. She blinked it away.

Falling from the table, she hobbled back to the front windows and peered out into the fog. It was darker than before; the fog had obviously thickened.

And there it was.

That indescribable something. She leaned forward, slowly, taking in light and shallow breaths. Her nose pressed against the cold window as her eyes focused in on this something.

Shrouded in the mist and darkness of the night, something stood across the street. No... someone. She could see nothing: not its color nor its hair nor even its eyes. But its height stood out. It was tall, lean, almost the size of her father. And yet it was impossibility thin. She could see nothing else about it, though.

Except for where it was staring.

Right at her.

She jerked away from the window, turning around and dashing to the stairs. As she treked her way up them, she shook her head loosely and muttered to herself, "No. No I'm done."

Kicking her door open, she charged into the dark bedroom. The air here was cold, chilled even, and she could see her breath as it plumed from her lips. But there was nothing.

And yet, as she looked, she saw it. Etched into the glass was a small circle, no larger than her palm, with two lines crisscrossing through it. And beyond that, the fog grew thicker still.

The coughing came back, harder than ever. She fell to her rump and hacked - hissed- until her face turned a deep crimson. Tears of strain trickled down her cheeks as she forced out all the air she could.

And then it was gone again. She fell to her side with a thud, breathing heavily. Forcing herself up with a strained face, she stumbled back to her feet. When she was stable, she wiped her eyes with a hand and swallowed dryly.

She leaned on her bed, falling into the plush surface with a weak moan. Sniffling, she let her eyes close and her head rest down on the mattress. Everything grew still once more. Even time seemed to stall, and for once tonight, she took in a deep breath of relief.

Tap. Her ear twitched.

Tap. Her eyelids parted.

Tap, tap, head shot up. A light tapping was coming from the living room. She stared into the doorway cautiously, biting her lip hard. A light metallic taste filled her mouth, and she soon felt a warm droplet trickle down her chin. She dabbed it with her hand, not wanting to look down.

Pushing herself up, she slowly made her way to the door. Step by step she approached, her breathing hallow. She poked her head out of the door, looking down upon the room. Everything seemed normal: the light was flickering, the room was neatly arranged, the door was shut and the air was warm. She looked to the left. There was nothing in the window above the table. She looked down.

Blank. No mouth. No eyes. Just white and blank. Wendy stumbled back into the room, falling and rolling with her hand pressed to her mouth to suppress a cry. It was there. It was staring. It was waiting.

Its image flashed in her mind again; a white face, no eyes to see or mouth. It's long neck with no hair...

She crawled to the side of the doorway and pressed herself against the wall. Rapidly breathing, she bit her lip harder than ever. More drops of warmth dribbled down her chin, falling to the floor with little thumps.

She peered over the edge with quivering lips and shaky hands. Her eyes were clenched tight, but she forced them open, revealing... nothing. It was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stomped down on the floor. A short, muffled cry came from deep within her throat, though she quickly suppressed any others. Trembling, she stepped out into the open, making her way back down the stairs and into the light.

The thing was gone.

Wendy lunged for the door. Grasping the handle, she jiggled it. It didn't open.

"That's impossible," she whispered. Slowly, she went up to the symbol, staring at it with wide, watery eyes.

Thump!

With huge eyes she snapped to her left. The white thing was pressed against the window, staring at her with no eyes. It was dressed in a suit and tie, and from its back several black tendrils slithered about the mist.

Wendy screamed. She screamed and ran behind an armrest near her, huddling into herself and rocking back and forth. Her eye trained itself back to the window, only to find that it was gone in the mist once more.

Crawl. That's what she did - she crawled to the book laying on the table. She pushed herself up on her wobbling legs and reached out for the book. She managed to grip it just before she fell back to the floor.

From there she scampered to back of the room, as far away from the front door as possible. When she had her back to the wall, she dropped the book in her hands and quickly opened it, flying through the pages.

"No. No. No no no!" She slammed her back to the wall with a scowl. Flipping through more pages, she landed on one with a large picture in its center. Her eyes widened, and she bent down to get a better look.

It was a circle. A circle with an x.

"Barricader seal," she read aloud in a wavering voice. "Prevents any entrance or exit f-from target place... Dangerous..." Then she came upon the final paragraph. Her breathing stopped and her heart pounded harder than ever.

The mark of the Slender One. If seen at anytime, anywhere, it is most advisable for the person to-

She dropped the book and yelped as a loud THUMP! nearly deafed her. She covered her face with her arms and kicked in any direction. Her heart was on the verge of exploding, and she began to hyperventilate.

But when she looked out between her arms, she only noticed two things: that the light had gone from the room, and that there was a small message one the window in front of her. She slowly crossed the room and looked at the single word written on the window.

_**Run.**_

She gasped, looking around, frantically searching for an option.

Knock.

Her heart skipped a beat as she snapped up to face the door.

Knock. Another soft knock came from the door.

"G-Go away!" she cried, sinking down into the corner.

Knock.

"I said leave!" She slammed her foot down on the ground for emphasis.

And now, there was silence. There was nothing in the windows, the rune on the door did not light up, and there was no sound but her breathing in the room.

She rolled off the wall, barely standing up. Everything about her trembled, and her body screamed to collapse. But she tightened her muscles and kept herself up.

"Have to... get out..." she said between sobs and pants. With mechanical movements, she made her way to the door, one foot at a time.

Step by step, she inched closer to the door, cutting her way through the darkness with the occasional cry or gasp.

But she had to get out. She had to get help.

So she approached the door, coming to a full stop when she was face to face with the wooden thing. Her hand reached out, shaking hard. It pressed down on the knob, the bite of cold metal stinging her.

With a deep, deep breath, she twisted it, slowly pulling it towards her. The fog rolled in under the crack like a ghost, chilling her feet. She grimaced and bit her lip, letting another tear slowly roll down her cheek.

The door creaked as it swung open, letting the freezing night air in. Wendy closed her eyes, turned away, and hoped.

It was fully open, hitting the wall with a soft crash. Her eyes still closed, she turned her head to face the night breeze, taking in the cool feeling as it went through her clothes and bit into her skin.

Seconds passed. She could hear nothing; the outside seemed quiet, still, lifeless. She gave herself a small nod.

Then, she opened her eyes.

And there was nothing. Nothing but the mist. Nothing but the darkness.


	4. Isolation

Dipper opened his eyes, immediately discovering his vision to be completely engulfed by the pitch blackness that surrounded him. He glanced around in a vain attempt to find some light in the otherwise shadowy room, soon finding that not even a single ray of sunlight penetrated the darkness. His mind was quickly teeming with frantic questions, all of them asking similar things.

_Where am I? What happened? Who did this?_

But out of all his frenzied questions one stuck out in particular, _How do I get out?_

Dipper spun around and he was met with the same overwhelming darkness that flanked him. He couldn't make out anything; not a single object, wall or person. The worried child had no idea what was up or down, left or right, his sense of direction and place was now completely gone.

He reached out a limb into the darkness, his hand touching nothing but chilled air. He stretched another forearm, soon coming to the same conclusion as before. The young man's mind reeled at this new discovery as he hastily glanced around in the dark. _There has to be a way out! There just has to!_

Dipper moved forward, his earlier fear of what lay around him disappearing after a few steps. He had no idea where he was going, but assumed that anywhere was better than where he currently was. With heavy, fearful breathes he continued onward into the dark.

SLAM!

"Ow!" Dipper cursed as he fell backwards, very quickly realizing he had just walked into what must have been a wall. His hand searched around until it reached his face and he began massaging his now bruised cheek. After a few minutes of perverse silence he got to his feet. Wanting nothing but freedom, he hurried in another direction, reaching a similar wall within just a few steps.

_Wh-what? I-I think I'm trapped in here! But there's got to be a way out!_ His thoughts now turning worried and frantic as he dashed in another direction, quickly tripping over a clutter of unknown objects. A loud bang and the falling of more items resonated around him, and he now merely lay on the cold floor. He was surrounded on all sides with no way out, simply left to bask in the horrifying dark.

It was dead quiet, not a single sound or noise reaching his ears as he rested on the ground. The silence was nothing like he had ever experienced, as living in California had got him so accustomed to the constant noise of the city. Even in the much smaller Gravity Falls there was noise, whether it be the footsteps of busy pepole or the singing of merry birds.

There was none of that; no people talking, no animals running about, no noise whatsoever. The only thing Dipper heard now was the every growing sound of his heartbeat, beating in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to invade his thoughts.

**_Thump thump_**

_What do I do?_

It seemed like an eternity since he had been here, his usually perfect perception of time now all but gone. There were no hours, minutes or seconds to count, to keep track of… There was only the numbing darkness around here, and the constant, now deafening sound of his own heart.

**_Thump thump_**

_There's nothing to do now… Nowhere to go, no way out… I guess I just need to wait here until something happens…_

**_Thump thump_**

_Why me? What kind of cruel person could do this to someone?_

**_Thump thump_**

It was still rising, gaining strength and sound with every beat until it assaulted his ears like a fifty piece orchestra. He fruitless clawed at his ears, trying to make the sound, the only sound, stop.

**_Thump thump_**

He couldn't think anymore, the noise was invading his very mind and drowning out all his previous thoughts and concerns.

_**Thump thump**_

There was nothing he could do now but writher around the ground like a pathetic worm, desperately pleading with whatever god or goddess there was to make it stop.

**_Thump thump_**

It was pure torture, not even being able to think as the rhythmic beating eroded his sanity. All he knew was the sound; the pounding of his cardiac organ as his atrioventricular values closed soon followed by the closing of his semilunar values. The complicated biological process of pumping blood through the heart resulted in the simple sound that was now consuming his world.

**_Thump thump_**

Driven insane by the sound, Dipper had now simply reverted to weak cries and the cradling of his body. He was whispering hastily, incoherent gibberish that even he didn't understand. Still, as the darkness and silence surrounded him, he was relentless tormented by the beating. It refused to stop, showing no mercy or remorse as it continued, somehow still growing in sound.

**_Thump thump_**

Only one thought shot through the insane beating, a simple frenzied desire to end it.

_Hark! Louder!_

_**Thump thump**_

_Louder! Louder!_

**_Thump thump_**

**_LOUDER!_**

**_Thump thump_**

He had forgotten his own name now. There were no memories, no pictures, and no thoughts that raced through his vacant mind. He simply… was. All he knew was the beating.

**_Thump thump_**

There was no Dipper Pines. He had forgotten about his love for reading, he had forgotten that books even existed. The memories of his friends and even his own sibling had all but disappeared, the names of them leaving even before he forgot his own.

**_Thump thump_**

He cried, not knowing who he was, where he was or even what he was doing. The sound was maddening; it had taken the strong willed individual known as Dipper Pines and had reduced it to nothing but a muttering, weeping maniac. Cut off from the whole world, left only with the sound of his own heart.

**_Thump thump_**

Light flooded into the room, instantly blinding Dipper and snapping him out of his crazy trance. His head shot up hopefully, hardly believing what was currently transpiring.

"Dipper? Dude, what are you doing in the closet?"

It took the young boy a moment to realize that the tall, plaid shirted girl standing in the doorway was addressing him. It took him even longer to realize the tall, plaid clad girl standing in the doorway was in fact his friend, Wendy Corduroy.

"Wendy?! Oh my God, I can't thank you enough for saving me!" Memories, thoughts and his personality all came flooding back to him as he collapsed in front of her, weeping uncontrollably.

"Uh…" Wendy gave him a mixed look of confusion and concern. "Are you alright, dude?"

Dipper quickly stopped his crying and looked up at his friend with a smile, "I am now, thanks to you."

"All I did was open the closet!"

"Wait, what?" Dipper turned around, soon finding that the prison that he had spent an eternity in was in fact a closet in the Mystery Shack. A large pile of books was strewn across the wooden floor, no doubt the hidden objects he had knocked over during his frantic attempts at escape.

His jaw fell open; hardly believing the torture he had experienced was the cause of a simple closet. "Bu-but…" He was at a loss for words as his mind trailed off, peeling back previous memories in an attempt to find how he ended up in the small storage room. After a minute it came back to him.

Stan had just sent Mabel out on an errand while he worked on his frantic research in trying to unlock the laptop he had found a few days before, when he, Wendy, Mabel and Soos had gone into a strange bunker hidden underground. Upon realizing that none of his books held the required research, he headed for the closet.

With his one book held in front of his face trying to find something of value in its pages, he paced towards the closet on the ground floor. Due to his absorbed reading he failed to notice the large puddle of water Mabel had spilled earlier, and because of her getting distracted soon after, she simply left it to dry. He slipped on the puddle just as he opened the door, instantly dropping his book and rolling into the dark closet. The blow to the floor must have been enough to knock him out temporarily, and the wind from a nearby open window must have closed the door shut behind him.

Dipper facepalmed as he came to fully realize the situation. He had locked himself in a closet. _Smooth move Pines…_

"I guess I might have well…" Dipper mumbled as he spoke, his beat red cheeks showing off his embarrassment to the young girl standing before him.

"Don't tell me, you locked yourself in a closet?! Bwhahahahaha!" Wendy instantly broke out into a fit of laughter, her tall frame collapsing to the floor as she rolled around in mirth. Her laughs eventually died down, and after wiping away a few tears she looked up at Dipper with a grin.

"It's not funny…" He hissed, soon giving her an upset scowl. "And hey, what took so long? I was in there for what must have been days!"

"Days? Dude, you were only gone for like ten minutes! I heard a door slam down here and when I went to check, no one was here."

Dipper once again facepalmed. This was definitely one incident that he wasn't going to anyone about...


	5. Island Song

"Hasta luego, butthead!"

"Bye Mabel."

The door closer to the twins room. Dipper remained on his bed, chewing on the safe end of a pen as he stared into his paper before him. Mabel and Soos may be excited to go to a textiles and antiques show, but Dipper would be sitting this one out. He had work to do after all.

Not to imply he would have preferred to stay inside. It was a gorgeous day; the sun was out, a breeze drifted through the open window, and the calls of birds invited Dipper to spend his time outside. All his youthful instincts cried out to accept the invitation. However, the disappearance of his sister provided a unique opportunity- to get some progress on his summer math assignment uninterrupted.

"Twelve point six times eight..." Dipper whispered to himself, chewing on the pen. Math was his forte, and he quickly scribbled down the answer with a grin, "one hundred point eight. Oh, here we go," Dipper groaned as he turned the page, having finished the last problem of the simple 'easy' section. Unlabeled angles, blank shapes, all manner of geometry flashed itself before his eyes.

With a huff, he bent closer, staring into the first problem. _Solve for X._

"If this is a... uh, obtuse triangle," Dipper looked to the shape, "and this angle is thirty three, and that is fifty five... that would make that ninety two? That sounds right," Dipper bit onto the pen a tad too hard, and the end cap sprung out, hitting his eye. "OW! Gah!"

As he rubbed his assaulted face, he heard the wheels of Grunkle Stan's car speed off. While Soos could certainly watch for Mabel on his own, Grunkle Stan was more interested in collecting a few oddities from the antiques for his re-purposing. More displays for the unwary visitor of the Mystery Shack.

Dipper tossed away the bent pen and reached for another, looking outisde. It was very, very tempting to just take a journey through the woods. Maybe he'd find some speaking mushrooms today, or color-moss that changes colors based on how nicely you treat it.

"Just get it done, and maybe later," Dipper sighed, and grabbed the next pen.

Something floated to the young boy in the air. It was shocking at first, like his senses had never encountered it before. Alien, but beautiful, this sound emanated from underneath the floor, a muffled beauty that Dipper could not resist. Homework could wait.

Gently landing off the bed, he started for the door. As soon as he opened it, he realized it was music. A gentle strum of some type of instrument tempted Dipper down the stairs, and he obeyed as if he were in a trance.

_"Come along with me,"_ a voice asked the world around it, and Dipper quietly stepped down the stairs, daring not to make a noise or interrupt this song,_ "To a town beside the sea..."_

_"We can wander through the forest,"_ the song continued as Dipper made it to the landing, and turned the corner,_ "and do so as we please."_

There it was; there she was. The answer to the blissful, peaceful, heart calming breath of merriment that was Dipper's crush- Wendy Corduroy. Long red hair dangling behind her back, a green flannel shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and her trademark lumberjack hat- she was the epitome of laid back, Oregon style. Today, she was joined by a new entity- a tiny stringed thing, rounder and less attention seeking than the standard guitar.

_"Come along with me... to a cliff under a tree,"_ Wendy sang as she looked out the screen door from her post, her legs propped up on the countertop by the cash register, _"where we'll gaze upon the water... as an everlasting dream."_

"Wow," Dipper slipped audibly, loud enough to be heard over the plucks and pulls of the strings. Wendy yelped and flicked her gaze towards him.

"Dipper!" Wendy gasped, putting down the tiny stringed thing and lowering her feet, "aw man, you startled me. I thought everyone had left but me."

"You sing?" Dipper managed to ask, feeling slightly breathless still.

"Ah, well, I mean," Wendy shrugged, adjusting her hat and fluffing her hair behind her, "not really. I just sort of mess around sometimes."

"That sounded amazing!" Dipper walked over, mouth agape still. He had no idea Wendy could have such a fantastic voice.

"Nah, you're just saying that, dude," Wendy grinned at him, and shaking her head, "being nice to the girl with no talent."

"No talent? Are you kidding me!? I know people in my school who wish they had that kind of voice!" Dipper blurted out, "that was just awesome!"

"Wow dude. That's some high praise."

"I guess," Dipper came to looked at the instrument, staring at its small, petite features, "so what is that, exactly? It looks like a small acoustic guitar."

"It's a ukulele," Wendy grinned, holding it out for this inspection.

"A whaaat?"

Wendy chuckled, probably having expected that exact response. "A Ukulele. It's a small little guitar that anyone can get to make music with. They sound all tropical and Hawaiian, don't they?"

"I... yeah," Dipper nodded, "and you can play it?"

"Unless there's another girl in here with long red hair and who goes by my name, it was totally me man," Wendy told him, confirming her as the culprit.

"Wow. Just... wow. I didn't know you played an instrument," Dipper admitted, leaning closer on the counter, poking the ukulele.

"I don't try to brag about it," Wendy shrugged, looking unenthused about showing any skill off, "as soon as someone has an expectation, they just criticize you for not meeting their own. So I just keep it to myself."

"But you're really good," Dipper implored her, "Man, instead of bragging his guitar, Robbie should have been taking lessons from you."

Wendy roared with laughter, and Dipper laughed a bit long the way. There was an internal mental celebration he made her laugh so hard, it forced his lips to smile wider than he usually was comfortable with. He made her happy; what else could be better in the world to smile for?

"Dude, nice one," Wendy wiped away a small tear from her eyes, "he wasn't bad though, honestly."

"Not bad doesn't compare to you!" Dipper exclaimed, "I thought I was going to come downstairs and find some angel or something singing in here!"

"Man," Wendy rolled her eyes and leaned back, "now you're just trying to be sweet. C'mon dude, I'm not that good."

"But... I really liked it," Dipper admitted, slightly crestfallen at her misunderstanding to his sincerity. Her eyes studied his downing attitude. Something about that look he adopted made her smile, and she reached over to the wooden instrument.

"Ahem," she loudly cleared his throat, "now... where was I?"

"Huh?"

"Right," Wendy nodded to herself, and brushed her fingers against the right cords, _"All of my affections... I give them all to you. Maybe by next summer... we won't have changed out tune."_

Sirens calls couldn't compare to her voice. Not to Dipper pines, officially put under a spell that was the beautiful voice of Wendy Corduroy. He couldn't look away, he couldn't think about anything else- his whole world hinged on the next words that would come out of her mouth, calm and kind and harmoniously wonderful. She wasn't just singing a song, she was singing to him. Singing and strumming perfectly in rhythm and pitch and...

Only to him.

_"And we'll still want to be... In this town beside the sea; making up new numbers, and living so merrily."_

The world was surely melting around Dipper. Everything was so heavy, and yet so light and soft and perfectly at east. A car could strike him, and Dipper knew it would just become marshmellow and flow into streams past him. This would be what heaven sounded like. Except they would be alone, and maybe he could sing with her.

Nah, maybe not. His singing voice was cruddy.

_"All of my affections, I'll share them all with you... I'll be here for your always, and always be for you,"_ Wendy sang, rocking her head back and forth a bit, like a gentle swaying tree filled with beautiful red flowers. _"Come along with me... to this town beside the sea... We can wander through the forest And do so as we please... living so merrily."_

With a final caress of the strings, her song finished. The effects did not immediately wane on Dipper, who's unfocused eyes dazed into space, letting the soaring feeling in his stomach settle. Then he blinked.

"See? I'm only 'eh'," Wendy shrugged, and lowered the instrument.

"Only 'eh'? Oh my god," Dipper gasped, "I don't even know how you can say that about yourself! You're putting me under a trance it was so good!"

"...You really mean that, don't you?" Wendy dropped her usual calm smile, staring at the boy with curiosity, "like, I'm good?"

"Wendy, I wish I knew agents. Because I'd send them flocking to you. Just- WOW!" Dipper yelled suddenly, accidentally bursting out that excitement that his heart fluttered with. Wendy flinched, but laughed as Dipper laughed with her, rubbing the back of his neck, "ah, sorry about that."

"It's okay dude. I... I don't know, I don't play in front of other people," Wendy admitted, "and all I hear is other people using these, so... I dunno dude."

"Is there a talent show in Gravity Falls? Can you go perform in it so I don't loose my mind knowing you are just full of talent and no one else knows?!" Dipper demanded of her, dramatically clutching the sides of the counter, making the redhead splutter with laughter again.

"First chance I get, I'll sign one up and tell you," Wendy told him, "but only if you show up buddy."

A rose must have shot straight out from Dipper's heart. A wonderful sharp jolt that felt as amazing as the first time Dipper had pizza, or got a question in class right on the first try, or the first time he really looked at Wendy. She wanted him there.

"Y-you know I'll be!" Dipper stammered and nodded. She grinned and leaned back, the tiniest of color in her cheeks. "Hey," Dipper asked out loud, "why don't you play for people? It's not like you have no friends or anything."

"Eh... I guess I just needed someone who I knew wouldn't judge a girl for using a lame little toy guitar," Wendy looked to him, her smile warming his heart.

"I couldn't- I wouldn't- who would-"

"Dipper, chill. It's just a girl's insecurities," Wendy snorted when Dipper looked ready to punch some lame loser for judging Wendy for anything other than being totally awesome.

"Oh, right, sorry," Dipper apologized, "you know, I wouldn't mind being your test subject."

"Nah, man, I come up with some stupid stuff," Wendy shook her head.

"I wouldn't mind," Dipper re-stated. The red head gave him another trying stare, trying to peel away any disingenuous intent. She couldn't find any, as there was none.

"I'll pull you aside if I think of something, okay dude?" Wendy asked, putting her ukulele away into her sack.

"Awesome! I mean, cool, yeah, that'll be really neat," Dipper nodded, his poor attempt at cool played very terribly. Then he remembered- he hadn't heard the song before. "Wendy, did you make that song up?"

"What? No man. I heard it from... from..." Wendy puzzled, looking around the shack, maybe hoping for a reminder to the source, "huh... I don't remember. Must have been a friend or something."

"Oh... well, it was really cool."

"Thanks bud," Wendy smiled back. "You know, you can chill down here if you'd like."

"Aww... I want to, but I should get my math homework done. Mabel will want to copy it, and if I leave it out, she'll put cat stickers all over it again," Dipper said with a grumble of regret. "But seriously, I want to hear more."

"I'll let you know," Wendy said, and then she winked.

"Hahaha," Dipper's voice rose three octaves higher, and he nodded as he retreated, heading back for the stairs, "okay, talk to you later Wendy!"

Dipper almost missed the first step. It was impossible to walk straight or think straight. How could anything in the world be so perfect?

Wendy wanted to sing in front of him again?

He had it. Dipper had something, something more close than a horror movie night with her every other day, or going on an adventure with her and Soos and Mabel. He hard her music. Her beautiful music.

"She won't sing unless she trusts them," Dipper bubbled with excitement as he closed the door behind him. "She trust me!"

Forget the bed, forget the homework. What else in the world was there but this moment? Dipper ran over to the window, and shoved the glass open, hanging his arms on the edge. The birds now just sounded stale and unenthusiastic. Maybe it was a curse, to know nothing would probably ever compare to that sound.

"She trusts me," Dipper sighed so deep he may have emptied his entire body's weight in air.

And it was such a beautiful day.

* * *

><p><em>Hi folks, this is EZB- humble writer of The Return to Gravity Falls and The Hellsing War Chronicles. I had the great opportunity to write this little chapter by request from the talented and awesome TheEquestrianidiot 2.0, who for some reason thinks I'm worth asking to write anything. I don't know what he's on, but I'm grateful. :)<em>

_ Remember folks, review his work, because damn it's great! And I'll see you guys next- (A box weighing a metric ton falls on EZB and crushes, filled to the brim with 'fluffy feels')_

_TEi: Dude? Dude? Eh, I'm sure he'll be fine. Hope you guys enjoyed!_


	6. EZB's The Knock

_Once again, many, many, many, many, MANY, thanks to EZB for letting me post this piece of pure awesomenistic, unholy terror. Serioulsy this bit had me looking over my shoulder. If you haven't read any of his stuffs yet, go do it. The man is a genius._

* * *

><p>It was laughable.<p>

The Apocalypse.

Certainly not a joke though; it was incredibly serious. The many religions and cultures of the world had predicted their own version of the end. From slowly ascending into heavy while evil-doers fell into hell, or a great tide washing over the land forever, or a great frost encasing the planet forever: the end was predicted.

How it came was simple, laughable, and only one person in the world saw it happen. Watched the entire population of every intelligent being vanished forever.

It had happened seven years ago. Had there been governments left to spread the word, they would have found that a portal based experiment in a privately owned illegal laboratory had run astray. It had meant to bring one person with that level of intelligence from another place in the universe back to this end of the portal.

To put it simply- it backfired.

Disorder fell quickly, but there was really no one to watch it.

No one saw the great skyscrapers rust and glass shatter.

No one witnessed the nuclear reactors leaking radiation into huge areas, killing helpless animals trapped in its deadly trail.

No one experienced the horrible, all encompassing knowledge that you were the absolute last person on planet Earth or beyond.

But for one person.

Gravity Falls, like all remnants of human life, was falling apart. Most of the log cabins had begun to have plant life coverer its entirety, or stray animals to take refuge inside. The few more sturdy buildings showed signs of repair and maintenance. Surprising considering every single person ever once qualified for their jobs was gone.

That didn't stop him from trying though.

It was mid January. Terrible cold had just hit it's lowest point. Of the remaining intact structures, The Mystery Shack was the most intact, almost the same as the day it was left stranded to one twelve year old boy. The snow was deep and heavy, covering all but the most secluded areas of shelter. Should the storm raging around the shack have faded, a passing bear may have noticed an empty pen for animals to its side, and a large log-cabin styled barn.

The wind raged against the trees, who shouted back with their aged creaks of wear and bending. They drowned out the coming successive sounds of oncoming feet.

Stomp, stomp. Stomp, stomp. Stomp, stomp.

Something of an outline emerged from the wind. Covered in white sheets and a bright grey plush jacket, the man emerged, carrying a large travel backpack loaded with supplies. This weary traveler had just returned from a long hike, but a successful one.

Large, heavy boots crushed more snow. Stomp, stomp.

Dangling next to this man's belt was a well loved axe. A hatchet large enough to cleave wood or to be used in self-defense, it rested lovingly against his hip, bouncing slightly in his wake. Dark goggles concealed the man's face, along with a scarf wrapped not only around his neck, but his jaw and up his nose. The biting wind would not be kind to any exposed skin, and this traveler was well prepared. Painted white and faint dots of blue was a hunters crossbow, loaded and accompanied with a quiver to its side.

Adjusting his gloves as he passed a figure to his right, he paused. A snowman, easily his own height waved a frozen stick arm above his lumpy, spherical head. A brown cap had been placed atop its head, crowning it a former worker of the building behind it.

"Afternoon, Soos."

The figure was quick with his passing by greeting. He did not stop to exchange any other words. Just a hello. It was all he could do. He had tried talking to his snowmen before, in the mad hopes they would talk back. He had never been granted that luck.

Stomp, stomp. Stomp, clunk.

To his relief and with a great sigh, he reached the half snow-buried that belonged to him. The lights were all off, just like he intended. With a pat for keys in his pockets, the man retrieved the small metal object, and slid it into its counterpart, the doors lock. Twist, turn, push- the front door slid open.

The enclosing darkness did not frighten him: even though windows did present themselves to an outside viewer, the inhabitant had long ago boarded up the ports inside, having experienced hungry animals gazing at him in the middle of night. Nightmares were harmless, night predators were not. Precaution always won over pleasantry. No natural light befell the first floor of the building.

Which was fine. He lived on the second floor anyway.

He slammed the door shut behind him, and locked it. Down he placed his backpack, heavy and burdened with loot. His clothing began to drop with the melting snow, and each article of clothing he removed was placed neatly on a metal wrack above a waiting clean towel. First came the gloves, revealing scarred, worn hands.

Then came the scarves, revealing a moderate nose, red from the cold and a touch stuffy. A small scar ran across the lips as they too became revealed to the world. Then the hood was dropped as the jacket was removed. Curly brown hair prodded the quiet breeze above it. He dropped the crossbow roped around his shoulder and quiver by the door. Last to leave the outdoor garb was the jacket, and there revealed a holster concealing not one, not two, but three pistols.

Never to kill, no. A pistol against the wildlife here, unless used against something small enough where he could wrangle it with his own hands, would just piss off the animal. No, these were his warning shots. Bears hated the sound, and would scatter quickly if he were quick about it. Wolves too- animals were skittish, and pistols were loud enough, and he had plenty enough ammo to do the job and be consistent about it.

The glasses came off, and brown eyes peered around. Nothing had changed. Thank goodness.

"I'm home!" Dipper shouted into the dark building. It was a joke, of course. Something, like Soos the snowman, to keep in on the fringes of sanity. In reality, it was a check if something had moved into his home while he was away.

He listened intently.

The wind was happy to reply from the outdoors, pushing and moaning against the boarded up windows and reinforced door behind him, but nothing replied from inside.

Dipper Pines sniffed the warmer air inside as he felt his mildly damp socks seep into the wooden floor below him. Had he gone back in time seven years, this would have been a gift shop, presenting ridiculous merchandise to the tourist, who easily would have paid obscene prices to obtain the goods. Now it was just a memory. Like every other room, aside from the kitchen and the bedroom.

No. The Bedroom was worse.

Yet he stayed there more often times than anywhere else in the winter. It tortured him. Absolutely tortured him. He could almost hear her voice when he was up there.

He lifted his backpack back onto his shoulders, sufficiently widened since his days as a boy and toned well from his labor. He trudged through the empty room and headed up the stairs.

Clump, creak. Clump, creak.

Dipper landed the top of the stairs and turned to his room. The room. It was also reinforced, like the two working door downstairs, by the back and by the front, in case something large would find its way inside. With a good push, he shoved the door open.

There was only one bed now. The attic room was entirely changed since the days seven years ago when he had someone to share the space with.

At first he had desire to keep it the same, as a memory. A token that there had been once someone there with him. In the end that just drove him mad.

Now a bed once belonging to a curmudgeonly old con had been worked inside, and the smaller beds shoved into the storage room next door. There was a large desk next to his bed, along with candles and an old oil lamp. He never used the oil lamp, not unless he had absolutely no choice. Once a cougar had gotten nearby the pig pen- he had responded when Waddles was squealing for help deep into the night.

One well placed solid slug from a hunting shotgun and Dipper had a full cougar pelt and a few other neat parts. Waddles deeply appreciated it. The pelt was lying on his bed, along with a few other furs and coats along with what few linens still weren't adorned with a trillion holes.

Dipper dropped his backpack roughly on the bed, and evenly opened the zipper.

His newest library exchange had gone well. He traded a few texts on plant biology and some teen paranormal novels for the classics; Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, Bram Stokers Dracula, and Aristotle's Poetics.

"Maybe the second read you'll have even more eye opening fun stuff," Dipper mumbled as he ran his finger over the spin of the Poetics.

Then he began to empty the other books. The library had a leaking problem. Some shelves were spared from the drip of death that would allow the paper books to rot within a week few days to a week, but when Dipper had arrived earlier that day, oh no. Six entire shelves had been covered in water. These were all that he could save.

He needed to keep active. Certainly watching over a farm of pigs, goats, two old cows, and a fox that liked to pop in every now and again to bother the piglets was all hard enough, but staying in this building too long was a death sentence.

Dipper had invented schedules. Anything to give his mind something else to consider. He would, every three days, go down to the town and check up on a crucial building. Armed with his crossbow and guns, he would scour the building for wildlife, and then check its needs. Since plumbing was no longer a factor, all he had to check was structural integrity.

Being forced to watch over a crumbling wooden shack for seven years straight made Dipper quick at repairs, and better an solving them.

The window next to his bed was covered in snow, but he could sense the closing day. Night was approaching quickly. The animals would be fine. Their barn was better suited than his room for heat- but he needed them alive more than he needed to be comfortable.

He closed his door and locked it.

Turning back to his bed, he slowly undid his holster, and gently dropped them by the chair resting inside his desk under-chamber. Placing them there gave view to the larger weapon by his bed- the shotgun. Loaded and always with the safety off, Dipper only grasped it if he knew he needed something dead.

No compromise with the shotgun.

Looking away from the weapon of death, he looked to the angled wall that formed a ceiling with a perpendicular wall on his bed's side. He had created a large pin and string map of the area around Gravity Falls, and places of interest.

Monsters had not left with the portal gone awry- only those with the intelligence comparable of humans.

Giant spiders, man-eating trees, strange crystals; all these things were marked on the wall for him to remember. He didn't really need the maps reminder. He had traversed these woods so much it didn't matter- blindfolded he wouldn't hit a branch or trip on a root.

It was dark now. The light had left him.

Reaching inside his desk, he flicked a match and lit the two candles on the desk. His mind desire to re-read the story of a madman who had wished to defy nature and god and breathe new life into death.

The book was set on the desk with a heavy clunk. Dipper snorted when he spotted several annotations someone had dared to write on the underside of the cover. He turned the page to the first chapter, and grinned, ready to read into this gruesome tale before bed.

Knock, knock.

Dipper blinked.

He turned around to his guns. Had they just hit the floor? No, as he saw them, they still hang behind him, off the chair suspended into the air.

"What the fuck?" Dipper said to himself.

It hadn't been a random stumble. He knew that sound. That was something that sound have been impossible to hear. A steady, successive rapping against wood somewhere.

Could he have imagined it? Dipper looked to the book before him. Frankenstein was about science, and heartbeats. Maybe his mind just screwed with him for a second.

"Okay, not a night for horror," Dipper decided, and quickly put away Frankenstein. "Aristotle, come here tough guy-"

Knock, Knock.

"Oh, holy shit."

Dipper stood from his chair quickly, almost toppling it over.

That was someone knocking on the door. Downstairs.

On his door.

He grasped the holsters and slung them around his arms, clicking them into place with themselves. Then he whipped to his desk and blew out the lights in a hurry. He could see in the dark fine by now. Creeping with a cats grace, he snuck over to his door, and put an ear against the side.

Knock, knock.

No, he had been wrong. It wasn't his door, it was downstairs. The front door.

"No. Fucking impossible," Dipper mouthed to himself.

Safety above everything else. He needed to stay inside, where he was certain nothing could get to him. He was protected behind two well barred doors and a set of stairs. He was fine.

Then again, there shouldn't have been anything in the rest of the world that would know how to knock. Let alone twice on three separate occasions. Damn it, he was scared, but he needed to know.

Knock, knock.

Dipper swallowed, and slowly pushed the door open. He could hear the faint echoes of the wind against the higher windows on his level. The devouring darkness concealed his exit of his room as he crept towards the staircase.

The lone human slid down the stairs, taking extra percussion to avoid noise. He wanted answers, but not to be discovered. What if this was a monster come walking to his front door, and was just smacking its thick skull against his door?

No, that didn't sit right. Dipper turned his head around the wall. There, across the room was his door. Alone. Next to his winter travel gear, long since having dripped their last bits of cold water.

Knock, knock.

Dipper didn't just hear that. He felt it. It was a solid, confident knock. They knew what they were doing, whatever they were. It was impossible, after all, that a human being was on the other side of that door. Dipper knew that. Every fiber of his being knew there was no one on the other side.

Then what in the holy fuck was outside his door, knocking away?

Knock, knock.

Dipper shook as he took a trembling step closer. He was in the middle of the empty room, and stared directly at the door.

Knock, Knock.

"W-who's there?" Dipper demanded.

No answer. No breathing. No sniffing. No outcry. No nothing.

"What the fuck," Dipper swore to himself, "am I going through an episode again? Shit."

This wouldn't have been the first time. Being in total solitude was something to try with his mind. He had hit several rock-bottoms in his head, and more than once contemplated his own ending by means of a gunshot. He must have just heard it inside his head.

"Damn. Going crazy already in this years-"

**Knock, knock.**

Dipper yelled and fell back. The force behind the last pair was strong enough to bend the door back slightly. He scrambled for his pistol, stuck in the fabric.

**Knock, knock.**

"I'm armed!" Dipper shouted, his pistol out as he lay on the floor, staring at the door with terror, "Who are you? Announce yourself!"

**Knock, knock.**

"I said I'm armed!" Dipper shouted.

**Knock, knock.**

"That means stop!" Dipper screamed, holding his shaking hand up, ready to empty his clip should the next knock break the hinges down.

**Knock, knock.**

"STOP IT!"

**Knock, knock.**

"GO AWAY!" Dipper begged, tears forming in his eyes. "PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

**Knock, knock.**

Dipper held his other hand to his ear, desperate to shove out the constant pounding on his front door. No longer was he ready to fight for his life. He was trapped. Trapped in his own last standing, his back on the floor with a shaking gun up to a terror indescribable safe for the sound it made against his door.

It was no longer a pair of knocks. It was endless, a never ceasing punching of the door, shaking the walls and almost bending the wooden reinforced door backwards. This was a nightmare, an absolute terror. A monster of fear must have found Dipper in his moment of weakness, and now preyed off his emotions, ready for the feast to come.

Dipper felt his hand go limp. His heart was racing too fast. He didn't even register the sounds of the door being bashed away. He was certain death had come for him. Death itself was here to collect the last, rare human being. It was seven years late, after all.

The pistol fell to his side with his hand, and he laid back, tears falling past his eyes.

**Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock-**

Maybe there would be a heaven.

**Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock,-**

If there was, his family and friends were waiting for him.

**Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock,-**

Dipper felt his tear stained cheeks grow cold, and he closed his eyes.

It could have been the instant he closed his eyes- he didn't know. All Dipper knew is that suddenly the world went quiet. Dipper gasped. It was gone. The horrible sound was gone. And so was the darkness of night.

It was morning. The snow storm had ceased. He lay, cold as ever he had felt, almost numb to his sense as he scrambled to feet. The door before him was still closed, and intact.

Not taking a chance, he raised his gun, and made to unlock the door. Slowly he turned the key, and then opened the front door to his home. A brisk cold wind blew past him, as the suns rays told him morning had come.

He swallowed his dry, cold throat, and looked around. No foot prints. No animal droppings. No sign of any kind of activity.

A dream.

It was a dream. Easily the worst life-like nightmare he had ever had. He had sleepwalked through all of it. He made to go back inside, and...

... and he noticed the front door. One of the wooden beams that crossed it, making it reinforced. Dipper knew very well the shape and form of his building. Almost every single nook, cranny and corner was memorized, like his books.

He knew that this beam never had a solid dent in it before. The size of a human fist.


	7. XxSkullCandyxX's Within the Woods

Dipper Pines strode through the empty forest the moon shinning brightly, without a cloud in the sky, providing a good source of light which the young detective lacked. In his hands, the Number Three Journal was open to a page Dipper was currently reading, trying to find something to spark his interest. Reading throughout the pages, he stumbled on a log that caught his foot as he walked, not paying attention.

He tumbled to the ground as the journal flipped open and landed a few feet away from him. Looking around to see if there wasn't any sign of someone or something, he stood up and weird the remaining dirt off him.

"Man, I really need to watch where I'm going," Dipper said to himself as he walk to his book and grabbed it off the ground to see if there was dirt on it. "Lucky your still in good shape."

As he look at the book, he saw a picture- a coal mine was scribbled onto the page he was reading. He look around to see his destination, as there was a coal mine in before of him

.  
>"There it is," whispered Dipper in delight. "The mine I was looking for." Dipper looked down to the pages. It had been one of those times when boredom took over curiosity, and he spotted this particular page. The coal mine was rather ambiguous in its report in the journal, but a little research had proven that this place had a darker past- many reports of missing lumberjacks and hikers were dotted over the years involving this spit of land. Something definitely worth looking into.<p>

He pulled out his flashlight he carried in his blue vest and with a push of his thumb turned it on, curious to look in the darkness of the mine. Entering the mine, broken wooden boards leaned on the walls and on the floor, safety helmets with small broken lamps tied to the center lay scattered about, metal carriages and pickaxes tossed aside. Dipper stared in awe as he took in the sights. He had never been in a mine before, so this might just be one of the coolest things he'd ever done.

Well, nearly coolest. There was that one time when he and Mabel... but then again... ah, who was he kidding, mines are awesome.

As he searched, he stumbled across a wooden box that lay in the middle of the ground. U like the other rotting wooden constructs laying around him, this box seemed... new.

Curiosity peaked, he picked up the box and opened it with the light of the flashlight shining inside. In the light, he found an old black and white photo that portrayed a group of at least thirty children under 12 and a man on his 30's. The children were wearing 1900's coal mine clothing while the man was wearing a business suit that matched the times.

Dipper continued to look through the box and found a stick of a dynamite. Dipper noticed the imprinted "CAUTION: EXPLOSIVE" on the side and he put it in his vest in case of a emergency. After all, you never knew when a stick of dynamite would be needed.

He continue looking for more items, but the last thing he found was only three sheets of paper written in ink. Dipper place the opened box on the ground and he used his flashlight to read the first written paper.

_March 9th, 1906_

_ Gravity Falls Mining Incorporation_

_I have worked in this mine for so long, and yet I still need to work hard or else I shall lose my job, and I won't be able to help my family. We haven't been educated for much time and we're still working in the wholes, expecting to be able to carry these heavy sacks and push those carts. I don't know why we have to work- we're just children. This is a burden, like my father would tell me. But we're the only hope to get money for food and survival. I only wish we could do something else. These days down under the earth are killing us._

_ Signed, Matthew Charles_

Dipper read it again. He had heard once or twice that children had to work in mines like this before, or in factories. But those were much earlier than the end of the nineteenth century. He tried imaging himself, pushing one of those carts next to him. Laden with tools, he doubted he could make it budge at first. Yet some of those kids were younger than him. He felt a pang of sorrow for the children who had to endure these hardships, laboring through the days and possibly nights if the foreman was that mean.

"I'm sorry you have to go through that," said Dipper in sorrow. "I wish someone would have stopped it."

He moved on to the next letter he found from the box. It was address by the same person.

_March 11th, 1906_

_ Gravity Falls Mining Incorporation_

_Samantha Smith just died yesterday. It was horrible. I thought it was bad enough, the way he treats us, but the sir has no love in his heart, surely. Sammy was doing her best, hauling the cargo onto the carriage, and then the boss just pushed her to the floor and to beat her for no reason! Everybody want to do something to stop it, but we were to afraid to face our boss. The best thing we could, was just forget what happened and continue working. I feel I will be cursed, like the rest of us. We are living in this place day after day. I'm so sorry for Sammy._

_Matthew Charles_

"What?" Dipper gasped, taking off his hat. He was in shock and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't believe something so tragic and horrible could happen to such young kids!

"That heartless bastard! Who'd hurt a little girl for no reason?!" whispered Dipper in anger. Bitterly, he then turned to the third and final letter. His eyes scanned the letter first, and then something washed away that anger, that righteous fury.

Fear.

He spotted words dotted into the letter that stood out- Kill. Pain. Body. Uprise.

Dipper then finally swallowed away the fear and read.

_March 12th, 1906_

_ Gravity Falls Mines Incorporation_

_ We can no longer bare this pain. I've seen this happening to the other kids- we're fed up now. Just before I started writing this, all of us, the kids and I, have made a agreement to blow this place apart. We're going to kill the boss. The children got pickaxes hidden and I got dynamite stowed away to give the boss a run for his money. We are too tired to take any more pain. We need to fight back and send a message to other coal mines who have children working for their business. I don't care what happens to me. No one should live like this. No one should die like this._

_God save us all, _

_Matthew Charles_

Dipper slowly looked up. There had been a mutiny. A mutiny of children and this Mathew Charles against one brutal and mean spirited man. The world around Dipper took a new appearance as he looked around. The broken mine carts, and splintered tools, even the paths that lead deeper, further down- it all was stained with the pasts blood.

Dipper started to stand, his feet scraping against the coal. He heard it echo gently around him. The echoing didn't stop.

Dipper spun around. There was movement. Something was moving in the shadows. He spun around, casting his flashlight ahead. He saw a black spray of pebbles get tossed into the air. Something was running around him. His fingers dropped the box as his feet as he turned about.

That was enough exploring for one day. Dipper spun around, and started for the exit. His running feet came to a halt. His eyes widened- he couldn't be seeing what was before him. Illuminated by the light of his flashlight, was a girl. She wore old, 1900's clothes. Her brown hair was dotted with coal stain and dirt. She had pure black eyes that absorbed all the light he cast to her, and she had the height and age of Dipper. Her skin color was grey as she smile and giggle at Dipper. As he shoulder shook, several bits of dirt and rubble fell from her clothing, as if she had been buried.

"Hello."

Dipper stared back, stunned and in a torrent of fear. She was between his way out, and he had the feeling this wasn't a local girl from town. She took a step towards Dipper and he hastily retreated a step. "Do you want to play with me?"

"AH-" Dipper opened his mouth, begging for his vocal cords to work. He cleared his throat a moment later. "I'm sorry, but I need to go somewhere. Right now, actually," said Dipper.

"Go?" she asked as Dipper slowly started side-walking, trying to get around her.

"Yes. Right, absolutely now," Dipper told her with a fevered shaking of his head. She then leapt to be in front of him, and he nearly fell backwards, stumbling away as he shouted in fear.

"Why do you want to leave right now?" the girl asked with a gentle smile, making her all the more scary, "We could have so much fun in here," said the girl in joy as she took two more step to Dipper, in which her face was a few inches away from his.

"Fun?" he repeated, "you know we're not supposed to talk to strangers, so I can't really-"

"Oh! Then I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Sammy Smith."

The name made Dipper really tremble.

She wasn't a local.

She was dead.

To encounter someone that died more than hundred years ago was a little more than just your average shocker. Dipper took another, huge step back to avoid her, but then he bumped into something. It was softer than a piece of dried, broken wood. He slowly craned his head around.

It was another person. Dipper tried yelling and running past Sammy, but a pair of arms grabbed him and firmly locked him into place. The person was slightly taller than him, and slowly pushed his head around to look at Dipper.

"Hey Sammy, who is this kid, then?" asked the person behind Dipper as the modern age, perfectly normal boy wondered if this was how he was going to die.

"Oh Matthew, you always have to ruin my fun. He hasn't introduced himself to me," said Sammy, the undead girl. Dipper silently mouthed the name she had just uttered. Matthew... as in Matthew Charles? The person in the letters?

"What's your name kid?" asked the boy named Matthews, still holding Dipper in place.

"Um... I'm Dipper, Dipper P-Pines," said Dipper. Maybe if he played their game they would see kindness on him.

"Well then, Dipper Pines," the person slowly let go, and walked around to face Dipper with the girl, "welcome to our coal mine."

Dipper stumbled backwards, eyeing these two people. He was just as filthy as she was. In fact, as he eyed the two figures, he realized that they were wearing the same clothes, except the ones on Matthew fit much better than that on Sammy, whose clothing was slightly loose and worn. He was a tad taller than Dipper, and looked wiser, more level headed than his other counterpart.

"Your coal mine?" Dipper asked.

"We have lived in this place for a long, long time," said Sammy as she laid her fingers to Dipper's face, and he did his best not to fall backwards in his urge to bend away.

"Since march 12, 1906," Matthew chimed in.

"Well actually... I was dead before that, but here I am," Sammy added with a stroke against Dipper's eyebrows.

"So wait, you guys are... zombies?" asked Dipper. They weren't spectral and floating, so that ruled out any kind of ghost that he had seen before.

"A what?" Matthew demanded.

"A zombie, you know," Dipper chuckled, but cleared his throat when the two undead figures exchanged a look, "cursed to living past death? Animated... coprses?" Dipper added at the end of his sentence, fearful of inciting anger.

"Hm... yes, I suppose you can put it like that," said Sammy as she was pinching Dipper's cheeks.

Dipper swallowed, staring between the two of them. "So, uh, you eat brains?"

"Brains?" Sammy laughed animatedly, "no!"

"Oh thank goodness," Dipper sighed, some of his tension leaving him. Then Sammy spoke again.

"We like to eat adults! Oh, and people for not helping us trying to survive in the mines, but we don't eat kids like you. Well... I might want a taste of you, anyway," she grinned toothily, and Dipper felt all the color from his face fade.

"Stop that Sammy, that sounds disgusting," said Matthew and he smacked the back of her head.

"Ow! It was just a joke!" she told him, and then looked to Dipper, "It was just a joke."

"Right... eating people... funny," Dipper nodded stiffly. Dipper step away from the two undead kids, finally free from Sammy's examining of his face.

"But on the topic of you," Matthew suddely spoke, catching Dipper's attention with his stronger voice, "why have you come hear?"

"I-I-I," Dipper took a breath, and prepared to speak, "I was just walking through the woods and I just found this place," lied Dipper, his heart was besting fast. "Then I got in... and I looked through some stuff."

"Huh. My box, isn't it?" asked Matthews as he rose an eyebrow. Dipper glanced to his hands, still holding the wooden box. "I was here the whole time when you came in," Matthew told him errily, stepping slowly closer, "I wanted to see what you were going to do."

"Oh... and?" Dipper asked. Matthew face, perfectly devoid of emotion as he stared at him with the same black eyes suddenly burst into laughter. It was the nervous energy that caused Dipper to laugh with him.  
>"Well don't worry, we ain't going to eat!" he told Dipper with a clap on the shoulder.<p>

"You-You're not?" said Dipper in confusion.

"No! I told you; we don't eat kids. We just eat adults and people who tried to harm us," Samme explained, listing the miss-doers with her fingers, "but that's it. You're not trying to harm us, are you?" asked Sammy, and Dipper quickly shook his head.

"Not I'm not. I was just looking..." Dipper realized he had failed his own lie, but continued on with his truthful explanation," looking for something I read from a book. That's it," answered Dipper.

"What book?" they asked in unison.

Too many times Dipper had to wrestle that journal out of the hands of others, monsters included. This would be one of the few, rare times he could use it as a means of escape. Maybe if he showed them the journal, they would trust him enough to let him go? It was worth a shot at least, otherwise they'd might as well eat him now.

"Here," he pulled open his journal, and flipped open a page, facing away from them. The two kids looked at the big as they never seen anything like it. Matthews walked towards Dipper and flipped a page. The undead girl stepped next to him.

"What's it say?" she asked. Matthew 'shh'ed her and continued to flip through the pages.

"This... this is all real?" Matthew asked Dipper, his eyes wide and shining.

"So far, yeap," Dipper nodded.

"My god," Matthew chuckled, clearly despite himself. "Sammy, look at this one!" he pointed to a page where a black triangle with an eye was sketched in, "a demon named Bill! Isn't that something!"

"Wow!" she added as she looked through the page, "I thought demons were named things like Satan."

"Not this guy," Dipper told them, and they both looked to him in further awe. He grinned, fairly certain he had won their trust, "yeah, that's right. I met him. I beat him in a deadly game inside his world of dreams and nightmares."

"This is... amazing! Dipper! Wow! You must be the coolest boy we've ever met," exclaimed Sammy.

Dipper actually managed to blush, not expecting her sweet comment.

"Well, I don't know about that-"

"Yeah Dipper," Matthew added, "you have so many things in this book, I'm jealous! I never had anything like... like this!" said Matthews, taking a step away from the journal. He was smiling. He was grinning with excitement and amazement to Dipper, and he was smiling back to Matthews.

"Not trying to brag," Dipper shrugged, "but I get that a lot," Dipper told them.

This was perfect. He was positive he was no longer going to be eaten- he won their respect and admiration. All he needed was a final nail in the box and it was over. But what... what would act as the final olive branch?

The box.

"Oh!" Dipper stowed away his journal, and lifted the box into the air, "And I also have something that belongs to you." He handed it to Matthew, smiling at his old belongings. Dipper also pulled out the dynamite in his vest and gave it to Matthews. "I thought I needed for emergences, but... you know, I don't think my Grunkle would let me keep it. Then again... he'd probably-"

"Your what?" Sammy asked.

"Huh?"

"What's a Grunkle?" Matthew asked with a frown. Dipper opened his mouth to answer that, ready for a rant about naming his grand uncle.

"... it doesn't matter," Dipper waved a hand, assuring them easily.

Matthews looked to Dipper and handed the dynamite back. "I want you to have it."

"But its-"

"I don't have a use for it. Keep it, maybe as a memory of us to you," said Matthews. Dipper chuckled, and took the dynamite from him. These two weren't all that bad once you got to know them... and after the fact that they apparently eat adults. With a small shudder, Dipper put the explosive in his vest.

"Well... thank you. You know," he added, looking to the journal in his other hand, "I sometimes add something into the journal when I discover something. I know I called you zombies, but maybe I can add something else in here about you two. You don't strike me as being really zombies."

"Oh! We'll be in a book!" Sammy bounded into the air, clutching Matthews sleeves, "how marvelous!"

"That would be fantastic, Dipper," Matthew added calmly, a fair smile on his lips.

"Cool. So... I really have to be going now," said Dipper as he walked past them calmly.

"Already?" Sammy asked with a whine, "but come now, you just got here!"

"Sammy, let him go," the other undead boy calmed her with a pat on her shoulder, "besides, he'll come visit, won't he?"

Dipper stared at them. They seemed to hopeful that he would come back and visit them once more. Was it possible Dipper had just made his first two undead friends? He grinned and nodded.

"Of course I will," he told them, and then got an idea, "I'll even bring my sister."

"You have a sister!?" Sammy demanded, "Finally! I can talk with a proper lady again!"

"Ah, ha ha ha, I don't know about that," Dipper told them with an awkward chuckle. Mabel may think herself a proper lady, but she could give these two a run for their money. "Or maybe I could bring Wendy, and Soos- oh... wait, maybe not Soos," Dipper told himself, remembering that while Soos was a great guy, the two here may try to eat him. "But I'll come and visit again."

"Thank you so much!" Sammy waved her arm viciously through the air as Dipper turned and started to leave.

"Goodbye, Dipper," said Matthews as he too waved goodbye. "I'm glad we could have met you."

He waved back once more, and began his hike from to the exit.

It had been a lie. He really didn't want to come back. They kind of creeped him out- two undead, never aging kids who ate adults? What's with that? And if they really were undead cannibals, that meant returning put his life in danger. It was stupid to think he'd come back.

But as he found the moon ahead of him far into the night sky, Dipper couldn't help but smile lightly.

He would come back.

* * *

><p><em>Man, this was really fun to work on. Had to edit it abit, and had a lot of help from EZB, but we got it done. XxSkullCandyxX, this was a really great story and I'm happy to have this in the story. Sorry it took so long. Merry Christmas, XxSkullCandyxX and everyone else who's reading this! Get awesome presents, eat a bunch, stay awesome, and I will see YOU . . . in the next chapter. Bye-byaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! (A horde of random zombie busts through TEi's door a he gets eaten alive.)<em>


	8. In the Trees

She raced through the forest like a bat out of Hell, arms extended outward as she cut through the low hanging branches and scattered shrubbery, the jagged edges of bark slicing through the palms of his hands. But Wendy didn't care – she too fueled with adrenaline to notice the blood seeping through her wounds and trickling down her fingers. She needed to get away. Needed to find her friends, wherever they were.

Wherever they were hiding.

Shards of hail pricked her skin, the clap of thunder sending a jolt straight through her racing heart. Her body begged for air, but her legs kept on moving, determined to get away from the thing that had attacked their campsite. The thing that dragged Dipper away. Stan urged them to stay together, for it was easy to get lost in this black sea of trees. But when they heard their friends frightful screams into the distance, Wendy immediately charged deeper into the forest, the sound of Stan and Mabel's voices echoing behind her.

But there was nothing in her wake. Empty paths lead into various directions, but Wendy couldn't remember which path she had taken that lead back to Stan and Mabel. Every tree looked the same, every bush matching the other. The ground was covered in dead twigs and fallen leaves and the ground felt soft and spongy beneath her feet once the downpour started to occur. She was lost, with no way to contact her friends and figure out where they were. She felt stupid for running off.

And when she heard the guttural sound of a throaty growl, stupidity immediately morphed into fear.

Clouds of fog could be seen coming out of her mouth with every exhale of breath she took, the temperatures dropping fiercely the deeper he fell into the forest. Daggers pierced her chest with every inhale of breath she took and it didn't take long before Wendy's knees finally gave out.

Twigs and damp soil smeared across her face, her fingers clawing into the earth to drag her tired body through the forest. She could feel its presence hovering dangerously over her and Wendy wanted nothing more than to get away as safely as she could.

Paranoia flooded her senses. It was almost like she could feel its jagged nails scraping along her spine, feel its frozen breath lingering at the nape of her neck, its teeth crooked and pointy and gleaming in the silver moonlight that peaked through the darkened storm clouds.

"Wendy …" It whispered, sharp and menacing. "Wendy!"

"WENDY!"

Her eyes shot open, peering into the distance just enough to see past the showering hail. "Dipper?"

"Wendy! Over here! Hurry!" Her friend called, sinking into the trees until all Wendy could see was the back of his head.

"Dipper! Dude!" Wendy screamed, finding her strength and rushing to her feet, kicking up clumps of mud and soil as she tore through the forest.

"Hurry!" Dipper urged desperately, his figure coming back into view as Wendy ran faster. The mass amount of trees began to split, less and less coming into view until Wendy noticed that they were coming close to a cave. Without any hesitation, Dipper slipped through the small entrance and urged Wendy to follow.

Sliding on her stomach, Wendy slipped into the cave and gulped large amounts of air, raindrops sliding against her exposed shivering skin and soaking clothes. She opened her eyes, not even realizing they were closed and blinked owlishly when she noticed how incredibly dark the cave was.

Hoisting herself up, she reached out into the darkness and quickly grabbed onto Dipper once she felt her friend's presence. "Dipper! Dipper, are you alright? Are you hurt? What the hell happened? How did you get away?"

The questions kept flowing as she examined her friend as best she could through the darkness, her fingers grazing over his arms and chest to see if she could feel any cuts or bumps. Nothing out of the ordinary, which made Wendy sigh in relief, holding Dipper close. "You had us worried sick, man. We thought we … we thought we had lost you."

"Where are the others?" Dipper asked with cold precision. It was a tone Wendy wasn't used to hearing from the young boy and she flummoxed, taken aback.

"Uhh," she ceased her hung, but still kept her arms wrapped around Dipper's frame. "I don't know. I lost them in the forest when I heard you screaming."

"Hmm…" Dipper hummed, pulling himself away from Wendy's grip. The tone in his voice was almost as cold as his skin, so cold it turned the raindrops sliding down his frame into little shards of ice. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was Dipper acting like this all of a sudden? _He'd never willing pull away from a hug from me._

Absentmindedly, Wendy slowly reached for her small hatchet she kept on her belt loop, her eyes slowly adjusting through the darkness as Dipper's small frame slowly started coming into view. "Dipper…?"

"I guess you'll have to do," he interrupted her, the undertone of his voice raspy and so unlike himself. "I'm sure the others will emerge at the sound of screaming. After all, it worked on you."

"You…" She fell backwards on butt, kicking her feet and pushing herself out of the cave as Dipper grew closer. "W-What the fuck are you!?"

"Oh, don't you worry," the creature grinned maliciously, growing immensely taller, it's jagged, pointed teeth gleaming in the moonlight until it charged forward, striking Wendy at the neck and pinning her down into the spongy soil. Thunder crashed and lightning struck, a strip of light highlight the features of Dipper's face, his eyes pitch black and feral, his smile curved into a vicious grin. But when he spoke, Wendy swore she could hear the cracks of her friends innocent voice, buried underneath a tone that was demonic and sinister.

"Your Big Dipper is still here," it whispered, controlling Wendy's fingers to pierce through the skin of her neck. "He's still here … screaming at me, begging me not to make him watch you die."

Tears streaming down her face, Wendy screamed and screamed.


	9. EZB's The Knock Pt 2

Waddles the pig and his family trotted happily in the pen, awaiting the coming daily regiment of food. He and his piglets and his wife, named Marble for her black and white skin and shining eyes by none other than Dipper Pines, were prancing about in the late morning sun. Waddles was just a pig. A pig who had seen a lot, been through a lot, and survived it all. And he glinted into the bright spring sky, after a long week of rain.

He was now a full sized swine, and a proud one. His memory was surprisingly competent for an animal who lived most of his days pacing around in the mud and splashing his children back when they got too jittery. All in thanks to Dipper.

Dipper, the last human. The only human. The brother to Waddles long gone master and caretaker, Mabel.

Even after seven years Waddels sometime oinked that same way, catching the older teen by surprise when he took care of lot of them. The sole resident of the building next to the pig pen had made sure to provide equal, if not more amenities for the pigs than he had. Very well insolated pen with a heater, thick doors, and good clean water. That was usually better then what Dipper was used to getting from himself.

Then again, after that long, wintery night, Dipper had taken to eating less and less since then.

Nightmares like that had come and gone, but nothing quite since that night.

As a gust of a breeze tossed the pig's ears up, the sounds of scratching gravel caught the pigs attention. They all ran quickly to the edge of the fence, desperate to see their hopeful master.

A worn, but very functional truck was driving up the winding gravel path that lead to the former Mystery Shack. Inside it, to the farm animals delight, was none other than Dipper Pines. A few moments later the truck came to a halt before the fence, and the driver door opened and slammed shut.

"I'm back guys," Dipper called to them as he walked around the side of the truck, where many bags of corn and pig feed awaited. "Anything bother you?" he called, spotting Waddles watching him excitedly from the protected gaze of the fence. The pig oinked in reply, and Dipper nodded. "Good. I try to be fast with these, but I remember that coyote in the woods. You didn't see him, right?" another oink. "Good."

Dipper lifted two bags of food, easily fifty pounds each onto his shoulders without a sweat. His body was used to physical labor by now. After all, there was no one else to depend on, and these pigs ate quite a lot.

"One for now," Dipper told them as he stepped over, and plopped the bags against the fence nearby the food bar. He picked up a combat knife from a holster by his shin, and sliced open the top. "Here you guys are. Nice and fresh corn. Go crazy."

The corn pulled off from a distant farm down the road away from Gravity Falls spilled into the food bar for the pigs, and the seven of them went nuts. Waddles got first pick, but he was no hoarder. The rest of the family joined in, even dainty Marble, who carefully chose her corn with a quaint sniff of her snout.

"C'mon Marble," Dipper egged her on, and she obliged him with a satisfactory piece of vegetable. "Good girl. Your mother would be proud," Dipper told her, reaching in to pat her back. She oinked briefly in reply. "Hell, Mabel probably would have just jumped in and joined you if I told her I buttered the corn."

Dipper laughed and picked back up the other bag. The food would be for later. There were six other bags like that in his truck, or Soos's truck, saved for the other days to come. Seven pigs really did eat a lot, but they kept Dipper sane and made his life feel more than just a game of survival for himself.

He tossed the heavier bag back into the truck and slipped the knife into it's sheathe. He'd been lucky when he went back into town and raided the sheriffs department. Since the one encounter, he had wanted a final bit of security, especially something that couldn't jam. A combat knife would do just fine.

Dipper's feet reached the wooden boards of the entrance. He did not push immediately forward though. It had been tradition, since that one night, to stare on the door. More specifically, he would stare into the one piece of evidence that he had not gone insane that one time.

The small indent that had been pounded into the wooden frame. Just a smidgeon smaller than his own hand. Slowly, he extended his gloved fingers ahead and felt it. He could almost make out the divots that would have belonged to knuckles.

Human-like features.

The kind of features that should no longer be possible.

Then with a strong grin, he turned and looked to his upper left. There, staring at him, was a fully-functioning 24-hour camera.

"No sneaking up on me this time," Dipper told the camera, and then unlocked the door.

Pushing past the reinforced front door, Dipper found himself surrounded with crates of supplies. The incident had prompted him to take more desperate measures to declaring his safety, and the once safe feeling town now stood as a reminder that there could be something else out there. Something that knocked on his door at night.

Ammunitions, rations, bottled water, extra clothing, medicine, all sorts of boxes laid around the former Gift Shop, bringing to it a new life that Dipper had not seen for years, not since he decided that seeing the happy faces would only bring him to tears as he knew that there was no one left to talk to.

Aside from Waddles.

A generator hummed loudly in the living room, tied to a large metal exercise bike that Dipper had jury-rigged together, creating a source of cardiovascular exercise and a chance to let the machine rest.

That poor generator hadn't worked in over two years, when Dipper decided that a computer and the lights of the shack were no longer needed. He saw well in the dark, and he enjoyed the idea of writing like a pioneer. It made him feel accomplished. But, as is all things in life revolving survival, necessity won over in the end. Dipper had quickly decided to re-think his take on electricity since that terrifying night.

He had miraculously, all in a single night, gotten the generator back to working perfectly. All he needed was to steal away sources of gasoline at first. Now the chargeable batteries would be powered by his peddling, and all in the favor of his computer, the lights, and the cameras.

Then again, there was the power generator downstairs.

As Dipper turned back away from the living room he had peered into, he spied the long covered up wall that lead to the hidden staircase. It was another relic from the past, things that he left behind in the world of human kind stayed down there. He didn't like to acknowledge its existence at all. It only served to remind him what he was missing.

Now he was drawn to it. Drawn to it like a moth. He felt the great paneling job he had done, feeling the tiny crease with his fingers, and then digging his nails into the sides, peeling away the cheap wallpaper. With ease and a small grunt, Dipper ripped it away.

Darkness lay before him, and dust littered the steps that would lead down into the hidden passageway. Next to the stairs on the wall was a small switch. Dipper eyed it, and with a small grin, he flicked the switch. Nothing happened, at first.

Pale green light flickered above, illuminating the many webs of dust that had formed over the years of neglect. Dipper turned back to the front door, staring at the day. Just looking out into the woods, wondering if whatever it was could still be out there made him shiver. He marched to the door and slammed it shut, and then double locked it.

"Okay, Grunkle Stan," Dipper said to himself, "let's see what I've tried forgetting about."

Dipper grabbed a flashlight atop one of the boxes and stepped inside the stairs, keeping a hand outstretched as he pushed away the cobwebs. There was just enough light to keep Dipper aware of his position in the hallway, but not enough to see the sides of the hall. That was what the flashlight was for.

To and fro he scouted the walls with his handheld beam of light. Pipes and readings of pressure covered both sides. He remembered these- the steam vents for the huge generator below. Ahead of him with a quick glance, Dipper saw an old elevator, crank activated and non-automated door.

He stepped to it. Pulling the grate of a door open was easy, but stepping inside? He had to commit himself to that. Should he do it? This was a part of his life that was over. Never again was there a need to get the materials that rested below, or see the traces he couldn't see himself throw away.

His hand twitched.

Dipper needed to go down, into the depths.

Two steps and a turn about, Dipper grasped the crank, and lowered it. The grates closed in front of him, and he began to sink down. The lights faded around him as his world, the world of the surface of the world rose and disappeared far above him. Sweat was forming on his face even through the cold wind that gust past him. He hadn't been so torn about anything like this since the first time he had to kill an animal to eat.

The elevator came to a stop, and Dipper gasped. The lights down here had yet to be turned on. He slowly pushed open the grate, and Dipper pulled the flashlight upwards, illuminating his path.

It was the old lab and operations that Stanford Pines had used to conduct the experiment. The one that Dipper was present for. The one he intended to stop, to save the world.

He saved the world, but at a cost it seemed.

Dipper stepped closer, and passed a key inserted into a lock by a computer. It was the safety terminal, allowing the machine to run. Dipper, after the incident had turned it and left it there. He barely remembered it at all, but stared at it. Next to it was a cluster of switches. Even after seven years, he knew which one was for the power.

He flicked it.

A machine deep in the walls around him groaned a metal yawn, awakening after such a long time. The beast was being stirred, and the lights around Dipper flickered and cast light onto the mechanisms around him. They were mostly unimportant to him; scanners and other life-detecting equipment rooted into the floor and far too heavy to lift.

There was a dusty trio of books on his right, sitting on a table with a fallen picture. Dipper smiled as he approached the long lost journals. One, two, and Three; each of the mysteriously written books sat in a pile of dust atop one another. The book that Dipper could claim started all of this, number three flashed light with its golden embroidery in the leather casing, tempting him to pick it up.

His hands did move forward, but not for the books. Instead, Dipper's fingers found the fallen picture in a frame, and lifted it up into the light. He hadn't seen either of those faces in over seven years. Smiling, happy, excited, and so young. Him and Mabel, age twelve, posing for a picture.

"You look so happy, Mabel," Dipper suddenly said, sadness wracking his throat.

He wanted to keep staring at himself and his long lost sister, but the lights in the main room cast through the window finally. Dipper barely turned his head and saw it, staring back at him.

There. There it was. The metal monster that ended Dipper's life seven years ago and put him into this purgatory of survival and loneliness.

The portal.

An upside down triangle was suspended by a single platform, wired with countless thick circuitry at the base. Four short, wide tubes were suspended above the dirt room and in the ground as well, dark and empty. They were conduits of energy, sustaining the still dark portal that had been untouched for so long. Aside from the strangely alien looking contraption, there was little to no construction. Only wooden beams kept the walls and ceiling up.

Dipper stared at it all, anger and regret pouring into his mind.

He saw, like a ghost racing before his vision, the actions that caused it all to happen.

There he was, with his sister. A possessed agent of the government stood before Dipper and Mabel, using them as a threat for Grunkle Stan. Bill Cipher, the demon of dreams and nightmares needed the portal. With it, he could send his real body into the world of the living, and cause whatever he wished.

Yet Dipper didn't allow it. Grunkle Stan had confessed it would only allow one interaction between a recipient, and he was saving that for one man. Dipper saw the madness in the man's eyes, and knew that Cipher would kill his sister if he let that happen.

So he did what he thought was best. He broke free from the grasp and ran into the portal, trying to save his family by throwing himself inside.

But he never entered the portal. Or so he thought.

He had indeed gone into the portal, but it had all been within a single moment. When he stepped back out, as he had just passed through, the world was empty. No one was in the room, upstairs, in the town, everyone had gone. There were traces of people being just there- food on the stove, cars still running, crashing into buildings and power lines. He hadn't left the world.

Everyone else had.

And, as Dipper reasoned, it was his fault. Somehow, he knew it had been his fault.

Dipper blinked and looked away from the portal. He was staring at the journals, and something lying underneath them that he had mistaken for a cluster of dust. They were papers.

Gently shifting off the journals, Dipper rose the papers to his face, and blew away residual dust. It was Grunkle Stan's handwriting. He could make it out, but he needed the lamp light that was on the desk.

Without much more of a fuss, Dipper pulled out the chair tucked under the desk and began to read these papers. They were complicated theories on how the portal worked.

Dipper had, over the past seven years, the opportunity to educate himself on whatever was left in the world to be learnt. He had almost gotten into quantum mechanics, but the closest resources to that were from the university of Portland, and the city two years ago had burned down during a terrible thunderstorm. He could almost make out the babble of numbers and easily five times more symbols.

Hours passed as he read into the equations and theorems regarding faster than light travel and trans-dimensional jumping. Dipper had forgotten where he was, engrossed with reading into the past.

What he started realizing, over hours of time, was that Grunkle Stan had actually been onto a new theory about the portal. That while it had the option to send matter and energy to another coordinates in the universe, it could also act as a filter. With an input, under certain energy conditions, the portal could detect something throughout the universe and act as a conduit for all signatures registering of that type.

Had Dipper been the filter for mankind? Had somehow he, by leaping through the portal, acted as a filter for humans throughout the universe?

That couldn't be right- it wasn't just humans. Human-level intelligence or higher had all vanished. Not just humans, but all things that matched them in smarts and the ability to use their head. Dipper had never come across anything that had the potential to think like he did, and since that day, hadn't planned on meeting anyone else who could.

So maybe it had been his fault. But... if it wasn't just a divine punishment, as he had assumed all these years, if it had been an experiment gone wrong, that meant something.

It could be reversed.

Dipper's mind exploded with possibilities. He stood up, his fingers trembling. This was more than a theory. He checked the adjusted measurements on the devices next to him, and realized that Grunkle Stan had truly changed the settings for his theory.

The lone human survivor gasped and clapped his hand over his mouth. He could do it. There was a chance he could get them all back- every single human who had been whisked away forever, he could change that.

He clutched the papers suddenly and folded them, tucking them into his back pockets. He had things to plan now. The type of material that powered the portal were dangerous, and rare. If he was lucky, somewhere nearby there would be sources of hazardous waste or nuclear rods to throw into the generator. But as optimistic he was about his chances, he needed to be practical.

Dipper took the elevator back upstairs, counting away the seconds before he could get to the books he had collected from the libraries over the state. Somewhere inside that he could determine where the closest nuclear reactor was. Then again, radiation was one of the few things he was not prepared for. Dangerous waste, yes. Maybe he could find a good source of that nearby.

He stepped out from the hallway, having left the elevator and the hallway, and slowly placed back the torn paneling over the hole in the wall. Dipper peered outside. It was dark already.

"Crap," Dipper growled, and he moved towards a switch by the front door. The outside world was lit up past the wooden bars by the window. Now he could see everything moving out there.

He sighed, and turned for the stairs, leading him up into his room. His head was tired and heavy- he hadn't read something new like that in years, let alone something complicated and well-thought out and original. He was grinning to himself. This was fantastic news. There was a hope, a goal again. He had something to fight for,-more than his, or his pigs, survival.

He could save everyone.

Dipper closed his reinforced bedroom door behind him. Set up on the old desk was now a laptop. Plugged into the wall and connected with a series of cables, Dipper walked over and clicked the spacebar. The black screen flickered new life, and four different screens showed angles of the house.

He nodded to himself after each of the screens shifted to new positions, showing off the front door, the pig pen, the old boarded up back door, and overlooking the kitchen windows. Each of the eight cameras he had retrieved and cleaned from Gravity Falls were working still.

Walking away from the desk, he lifted his vest and tossed it aside. Today was not going to be a day where he cared about being tidy. He would do that later. His holsters fell away next, gently placed aside, with their armaments, by the desk. Stripping away heavy layer after heavy layer, Dipper finally removed his shirt, revealing a chest and washboard stomach any man would be proud to have.

The clothes to the floor, Dipper spun and fell backwards, still grinning as he closed his eyes. This was so good. Everything was working in his favor.

Knock, knock.

His eyes darted open as fast as his heart sped up. There was no time to think, not time to react. Without a word to react with, he scrambled up and to the desk. The cameras were not showing anything by the front door, but that was sure as hell where the sound came from.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Dipper growled as he slammed on a white t-shirt, and slammed back onto him the holsters. Once they were secure, he lifted the axe into one hand and ran from his room, storming down the stairs. He looked to the door, seeing the still active lights in the gift shop.

Nothing had happened quite yet. He wanted to walk closer, but he stalled. And good thing too.

Knock, knock.

"Holy fuck!" Dipper whispered.

It had been months since this happened. Why now? Why again? The survivor removed a gun with one hand as he held out his axe, and approached the front door.

"I'm still here, yeah," Dipper shouted loudly at the door. "I'm still here! Now, let's try this again. Who are you!?"

No response.

"I asked you a question! Who are-"

Knock, knock.

"Fuckin' sakes," Dipper growled as he moved to the sides of the window. If the thing couldn't speak, it would at least know how to communicate. But it showed no signs of interacting with him. How was it capable of knowing how to knock if it wasn't intelligent? Had it learned a pattern from humans? Was this something long since active and alive, and it hadn't been until humans left that it awoke.

Dipper found himself against the wall, and then her peered through the cracks in the window boards. He could see the front door.

Nothing was there.

Knock, knock.

The feeling drained from Dipper as soon as the sound came again. It was still by the front door, but he had watched the wood tremble as nothing struck it.

"I... am I being haunted!?" Dipper gasped, and ran for one of the crates. Inside, he found the adapted EMF detector that he had used when trying to enter the old abandoned Dusk 2 Dawn store. As he turned the device on, Dipper remembered something. The old ghosts in the shop had also vanished.

Whatever was there couldn't be a ghost.

Nothing was there. Absolutely nothing.

Knock, knock.

"Okay, you know what?" Dipper shouted, almost laughing at himself, "this was really scary the first time," he told the entity, if there was one, "but now? Now?! I'm pissed! You, and you stupid fucking game of 'knock knock' can go fuck yourself! You hear me!? GO FUCK-"

Knock, knock.

Dipper laughed and raised the pistol for the door.

Knock, knock.

That one hadn't come from the front door. Dipper's eyes widened and he slowly turned around, staring behind him.

Knock, knock.

Dipper spun back around. That one had been from the front door.

Knock, knock.

That one was, if Dipper was guessing correctly, the boarded up back door. Unless this thing was faster than anything else Dipper had ever heard of, he knew his situation had just worsened.

There were two of them.

"Oh god," Dipper gasped as he turned in place. What could he do? Nothing itself was knocking on his door now, and there were two of it? What did you do against something that didn't exist?

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Dipper screamed and turned his gun towards the front door as he backed away. The knocking had become slightly more agitated and powerful. Dipper stared. Dust had flown off the sides of the door in places Dipper didn't even know there had been dust. The floor had shaken.

Knock, knock.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Two separate beats against wooden doors, but Dipper's focus was entirely on the first, now very strong, and very dangerous. The locks inside rattled and shook with the pounding as whatever awaited outside began to slam the door with force that made Dipper tremble.

He couldn't wait. He refused to wait.

Lifting his pistol, he fired.

Again and again, he pulled the trigger, shooting into the thick wooden door, aware that the heavy planks of wood would not allow the standard sized rounds to pass through. It was a threat from Dipper- back away now, or else.

It seemed to work. The knocking stopped.

Dipper gasped and lowered his emptied revolver to rest aside his leg. He gasped when he felt the heat of the end of the gun touch his pant, nearly burning a hole through the pajama fabric.

"Okay. They don't like guns," Dipper sighed and smiled. "I got them now."

BANG.

Dipper screamed and dropped his gun. The force behind the slam of the front door was far too great to be a human being. The wood bent backwards, barely held on by the locks and deadbolt Dipper had installed.

BANG.

Knock, knock.

The one by the back door had returned.

Again the wood bent backwards. Dipper raised his axe and his breathing hastened.

Knock, knock.

Dipper spun around again. He heard that by the old kitchen door.

Knock, knock.

Now another new knocking- this time from the windows, rattling their frames. Dipper was pulling at the hair in his head. There was many of them.

Then there was a new noise. Not a single burst of energy, but a long, powerful, sustained vibration of the air around Dipper.

A scream.

Dipper held his hands to his ears as the world shook and trembled with the power behind the screech. It was so high pitched and so overwhelming Dipper felt his eyes water. His hands did little to muffle the sound, but his entire body felt its presence. The world could have been shaking for all he knew.

The deadbolt snapped off and went flying. The secondary lock split in half. Both were stainless steel and worth quite a lot of money. Just tossed off a large, heavy door like they were toys. Dipper watched both rattle to the floor, and stop by his feet.

His gaze slowly lifted his head to the now entirely open door.

Slowly it slid open. It opened with the slowest, loudest creaking a door could have, and the night beckoned him. Wind rushed inside, and several of the boxes fell aside. Dipper couldn't wait. His instincts all told him something was running at him now.

He spun and ran up the stairs faster than he had in his entire life. It was inside now, chasing him. Barely a few feet behind him. He heard a rush of wind just behind him when he ran into his room and slammed the door. Before he could think about locking it, Dipper swung the axe into the door and doorframe, wedging the metal hatchet into wood, forcing the door shut, and just in time.

Knock, knock.

It was at his door now, demanding to be let inside still. Dipper gasped as he reached for his other pistol. This thing wanted him. It had the chance to pillage his home, but it wanted him.

He was trapped.

"Shit, shit, c'mon," Dipper spun around the room, looking for his last saving grace. He had tossed aside the pistol uncaringly, aware of the thickness of his door. A pistol round wouldn't be going through that sucker, just like before, and it was now clear that Dipper was dealing with something that didn't care for threats.

There it was. He found it under his bed. The hunting shotgun.

Knock, knock.

"FUCK YOU!" Dipper roared as he ran over, put the gun against the door, and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The door indeed rattled, but it was by Dipper's will, and not the unseen entity. The shotgun blasted through the wood point-blank, showering the other wall and bathroom door with splinters as his solid slug blew through everything in its way, eventually becoming imbedded in a far reach of the house.

Dipper could repair damage, but he couldn't fix the world if he was dead.

He waited for a reply. For anything. All Dipper heard was squealing from outside.

"Waddles," Dipper gasped.

His bedroom door slammed open and he charged down the stairs. Cocking the shotgun in his hands as he went, he fled out the still open front door to the pigs. They had left their comfy home hut and wandered outside, staring at Dipper fearfully. As he ran over, he noticed them all were safe and sound.

"You... you guys see anything!?" he coughed as he came to a halt. Waddles squealed but didn't turn away. If the pigs had seen anything, they weren't keen on telling him. It was more likely they were worried that Dipper had shot himself. "Okay, you're alright."

Then Dipper realized where he was. Outside. He was no longer indoors, but out, and around the world. He prepped his shotgun in his hands and slowly backed into his home. The pigs watched him go caringly, and Dipper slowly pushed the front door shut, noticing the six bullets imbedded in the indoor side.

His hands went to lock the door down, but then he growled. Whatever it had been out there clean-blew away the locks with just a scream. Dipper slowly stepped through his house, now aware that these things could be inside with him. His shotgun end was the first thing to enter a room as he left the gift shop.

He checked them all- the places he heard the knocking from. The kitchen, the backdoors, the windows- everywhere. There was no sign of damage aside from the front door. Eventually he wandered back into the gift shop, slowly pushed the stacks of heavy boxes to block access to the lock-broken door. Nothing was getting in tonight.

Thirty minutes later of patrolling around the shack, Dipper finally stomped up the stairs, walking into his room, carefully avoiding the splinters scattered across the hallway floor. Dipper wondered if he had killed one when he fired the shotgun. He stared at the section he imagined some spectral creature laying on, and pushed his toes there. Nothing moved or resisted his grace. If there had been a body, it wasn't there.

Finally, he closed the door to his room. He could see the perfectly circular hole his gun had made through the wood, and he wondered if these beings could slip through holes that small. Repairs would need to be done soon. If there were more of them, he would be seeing them soon again.

A beep behind him called to his attention. The computer warned him it was about to go on standby mode. He saw the cameras and then gasped. He could watch it happen from the outside.

Running over and knocking the chair aside, Dipper activated the one camera feed by the front door. He sped backwards through time, and finally saw it, the moment the door became unhinged. There was sound available, and so he un-muted the laptop. As he re-wound the footage, he finally found a good place-mark to start.

One minute before it happened.

The door was shaking, and he heard his muffled voice from inside, calling out to the invisible force that was in front of the camera, slamming itself into the door. Again and again the door was knocked on, the exact same placement of the invisible fist.

Then static sound. The visual screwed up.

A few moments later, after what Dipper assumed was the horrible, ear splitting scream that the creature emitted, the camera returned, showing the opening door.

"Wait a second," Dipper squinted and rewound the camera. Just before the static. He pressed play and raised the volume as he stared into the screen. Just passed the hazy and terrible distortions of recording quality.

Then he heard it. A sound. Something underneath the static.

Words.

He rewound again. Pressed play.

He heard it again and shook his head.

As Dipper stared into the static, he gasped and slammed his finger onto the spacebar. The video paused at just the right moment.

There, standing before the door, perfectly upright, was a shadow.

"What are you?" Dipper asked the screen, and rewound again. This time he played the sound loud and clear, and shivers crawled through his spines when he heard the words, whispered by what could have been many voices overlapping.

"Let... us... in..."


	10. A Most Unusual Request

**NOTE****: This is an intimately romantic oneshot, however it is written in a tasteful and respectable manner such that I feel an M-rating is not necessary. Regardless, younger and more sensitive readers should take heed to this message and decide whether or not they wish to proceed. And I have no clue why I wrote this. I just did. Enjoy da WenDips!**

* * *

><p>It was a perfectly clear, cool, and cloudless Friday night. The star-coated sky was graced with a waxing crescent moon which looked down upon the small little city, bathing its many businesses and small high-rises in a warm, inviting glow.<p>

Throughout the town, citizens were making the most of their much-needed reprieve from the stress and monotony of the work week on this wonderful evening. Greasey's Diner rung noisily with the banter of rowdy and slightly inebriated patrons drowning their troubles away with hard liquor. Bowling alleys and karaoke parlors were alive with the sounds of thumping techno beats interspersed with the thunderclap of pinfalls and slightly off-key singing.

Also full of life and laughter were the many and eclectic eating establishments which dotted the small town, and the locally-owned and world-renowned Italian restaurant, Il Costoso, was no exception. The five-star eatery provided the perfect atmosphere for couples, both young and old, to enjoy a romantic dinner together.

It was at this moment that the front door to the restaurant swung outward, pushed by a tall young man, clad in sharp black dress pants and a matching jacket and shirt with tie. Holding the door open, he cast a warm, contented smile towards his companion, a gorgeous red headed woman, as she stepped out into the night air. Letting go of the elegant brass door handle, he couldn't help but gaze, awestruck, at the incredible sight which beheld him.

Her jet black strapless dress shimmered resoundingly in the moonlight, hugging her perfectly curved and buxom form in a manner which seemed to defy the laws of physical science. Her mesmerizing emerald eyes radiated with intense happiness and warmth, a small yet loving smile adorning her gorgeous face. In the serene glow of this splendid eve, she appeared almost divine.

The scene took his breath away.

_'She's an angel. An absolute angel,'_ the man thought joyfully. _'How in the hell did I actually even get this lucky?'_

He had done it. He had finally done it, and even now he still could not believe that he had done it.

After many long years spent wandering hopelessly through an impenetrable fog of fearful, nervous silence, and wait until he was a little older since when he first developed his crush on the woman before him, he had finally summoned up the courage to ask her out on a date.

Her.

The girl who been there for him whenever he needed a break from the bland, empty, soulless, tiring, and somewhat life-threatening routine that was his life during his stay in Gravity Falls. The girl whom he had been friends with ever since he was a twelve. The girl whom, whenever she was around, whether it be a on friendly outing together or a simple wave and hello in passing, filled him with immeasurable hope and joy and made his anything-but-regular existence worth living for. The girl whom he undoubtedly and irrevocably loved with every beat of his heart, and would do anything in his power to ensure of her happiness and safety, even at the cost of his own life.

He stood there, transfixed, unable to take his eyes off of her.

The girl took notice of his trance-like state and giggled sweetly, closing the small gap between them and gently wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Dipper, I can't thank you enough for tonight. I've never had a date this wonderful before," she told him truthfully, pressing herself deeper into the folds of his jacket.

"Anything for you, Wendy," he replied, gingerly stroking the back of her head. "You of all people deserve it."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you," she murmured. "I'm really glad we could finally go out. You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment to happen."

"Neither have I, and I couldn't be any happier." The two people continued their loving embrace for quite some time before slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, withdrawing from each other's arms.

A second or two of silence passed before Dipper spoke up again.

"So, Wendy, the night's still really young. Is there anything else you'd like to do tonight?" he asked casually. "We could go bowling or play a round of mini-golf, maybe even take a nice long stroll through the forest, away from everyone else." He honestly did not care what they did or where they went next, all he cared about was spending as much time as possible with the beautiful woman standing next to him.

Wendy pondered his question for only a few moments, smiling cheerfully as she did so.

"Well, I think most of the popular spots around town will be too crowded to really enjoy, and as much as I love going to the park I'm feeling a bit tired tonight, so why don't we go back to my place and watch a movie." Wendy suggested. "You know, something fun and romantic," she added with a flirtatious gaze.

The man perked up at Wendy's expression, grinning happily. "That sounds fantastic," he agreed jovially.

Dipper gently took her left hand into his right, entwining his fingers with hers, and together they set off down the sidewalk in the direction of the small apartment complex where Wendy resided, leaning into each other blissfully.

As they walked along the sparsely populated sidewalk, past bustling businesses and trendy hangout venues, both the man and woman were lost in deep, contented thought, replaying the incredible series of events that transpired on this perfect Friday over and over inside their minds. Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were greeted by the cookie-cutter assemblage of buildings; and still holding hands, Wendy lead Dipper towards the fourth edifice in the little cluster, into the lobby and up three flights of stairs, coming to a stop just outside the door to her room, number 305. Quickly rummaging through her lavender purse, the red headed girl fished out her keys and unlocked the door, beckoning him inside.

"Well, here we are. Home sweet home," Wendy giggled, setting her purse on the little wooden table next to the door as Dipper hung up his jacket inside the closet on the opposite side of the foyer. "Why don't you go pick out a few movies while I go make some popcorn."

"Sure thing," replied Dipper. Wendy smiled sweetly at him and made her way towards the quaintly-sized kitchen to prepare the fabled cinematic snack. Moments later, the hum of a microwave and the distinctive reports of exploding corn kernels could be heard.

Making a left into the small living room, Dipper approached the moderately-sized shelving unit supporting a late '90s cathode ray television complete with large boxy speakers, a combination VCR and Betamax tape deck, and a Laserdisc player. He began sort through the small collection of tapes and discs, muttering his opinions of each film quietly to himself as he did so.

"Let's see here...nah, too cheesy...too bland...not very romantic...hmm, this one might be decent...aha, this one's a classic...waayyy too violent...huh, I've never heard of this one before; looks kinda interesting."

A series of beeping sounds escaped from the microwave and the room now filled with a warm, buttery aroma.

Satisfied with his selections, Dipper went over and sat down on the couch, three tapes clutched firmly in his right hand. Wendy quickly joined him, setting the large bowl of fresh popcorn on the coffee table in front of her.

"Find anything good?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he told her, gesturing to the trio of movies. "We've got 'Just a Regular Movie,' the mother of all romantic comedies, 'Shy Guy,' and last but not least, 'The Engineer's Daughter.' Which one do you wanna watch?"

Wendy glanced back and forth between the three titles for a second or two. "Let's watch this one," she declared, pointing to the last tape. "Tambry told me it's supposed to be really good."

"Alright, cool." Dipper replied, handing her the tape. She got up and quickly inserted the movie into the VCR, turning on the TV and flicking the lights off in the process. The faint glow from the screen reflected beautifully off her dress, and once again Dipper found himself smiling deeply, unable to look away from her lovely countenance.

Wendy noticed his dreamy expression and let out a soft laugh.

"What are you looking at, dude?" she asked him playfully.

"Oh, nothing..." Dipper mused "just admiring how amazing you look right now." A faint blush tinted her cheeks as she returned to the couch.

"Here, lie down. We'll be much more comfortable that way," she stated with a sweet smile.

Taking the hint, Dipper swiveled ninety degrees counterclockwise and leaned back against the pillow, stretching his long legs out across the cushions. Wendy gathered herself in his lap and snuggled up close to him, her head resting just underneath his chin. She brought the bowl of popcorn into her lap as Dipper gently wrapped his arms around her stomach, holding her close and smiling lovingly at her, relishing in the splendor of their togetherness.

The tape began. A couple of previews for upcoming films flashed across the screen.

"See? Told you so," she cooed. "You make a great pillow, by the way."

Dipper chuckled lightly. "Glad to hear. I wouldn't have it any other way." He lowered his head and planted a soft, tender kiss on the top of Wendy's head, causing her to blush once more.

Soon the film began and the people turned their attention towards the TV, watching with interest as they munched on small handfuls of popcorn.

It was an old-fashioned romance feature set during the golden age of railroading. The protagonist, a somewhat shy young lad around their age, worked as a luggage carrier at the local train station. He was deeply in love with a girl he had known for quite some time now, the daughter of the engineer who ran the twelve-o-clock express, and every day he would try to talk to her, to tell her how he felt about her. Unfortunately for him, the frazzled old conductor was very overprotective of his little girl and forbade him from communicating with her, thinking him to be, in his own clouded opinion, "an irritable young rogue with nothing but trouble written across that unkempt face of his." She, however, would always find a way to escape her father's eagle eyes and meet up with the boy, and each time they grew closer and closer together.

Dipper and Wendy were completely engrossed in the film, making occasional comments and chortling heartily whenever something humorous occurred. The bowl of popcorn, having long since been spent, rested once more on the coffee table. The red haired girl gently squeezed the boy's hands and nuzzled deeper into the crook of his neck, blissfully content. Her reverie did not last long, however, as the stress and fatigue that she had staved off for much of the evening finally made its presence known. Wendy shifted uncomfortably in Dipper's arms and brought a hand to her left shoulder, rubbing it in an attempt to quell the aggravating aches that suddenly wracked through her upper body.

"Hey, you feeling alright?" Dipper asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she responded. "I'm just really stiff from work earlier today. Stan had me cleaning rooms at the Mystery Manor and had me take care of all the dishes. I barely had time to sit down."

Dipper chuckled softly, "Here, just relax. I can totally fix this." He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them, working his fingers into her soft flesh with gentle circular motions. Wendy eased back into him and sighed delightfully. She could literally feel the stress melting away with each passing second. Dipper simply smiled lovingly at her as he continued his handiwork, putting all those years of piano and video game playing to a much more enjoyable use. Besides, it had always been a fantasy of his to touch her in this way, and had played it out over and over again just how he would do it.

The movie kept playing, but neither of the two birds paid it much attention. Roughly twenty minutes later, Dipper released his grip on Wendy's shoulders and rested his arms back down across her stomach.

"How do _you_ feel now?" he questioned.

"Mmmmmm...much better, but...I'm still feeling kinda tense..."

Wendy paused, looking up at him with the sweetest and most innocent-looking face she could possibly muster. "Hey, Dipper...?"

"Yes Wendy?"

"Will you do me a solid and massage my chest, please?"

Dipper's mouth fell open and his eyes practically bulged out of their sockets upon hearing her request. His heart rate accelerated alarmingly and the room seemed to jump several degrees in temperature. His mind spluttered and spat like an old radial aircraft engine as he attempted to process and digest the words she had just spoken. He simply could not believe what he had just heard her ask him to do.

_'She...wants me to...to massage her...massage her...her...'_

His gaze was now locked firmly onto Wendy's well-endowed upper torso. She looked impossibly soft and inviting, she radiated a feeling of sensual abundance.

_'...breasts...and it's a SOLID...Oh. Holy. Crap...'_

A sudden atomic thought blast sent Dipper's subconscious reeling. Fantastical images in the nature of things like steam locomotives, dirigibles, hope, the linotype machine, 1930's era open-wheeled racecars, soviet men with thick beards, an Antonov An-225 dragging several dozen telephone poles behind it, Old Man Horseshoes in his 1962 Lincoln Continental mowing down a man with a traffic signal for a head, an electrical box spewing fire from out its tiny door, pickle surprise, Bob Saget, a grotesque, gaping mouth with razor sharp teeth and a dozen or so clawed hands wearing a business suit, and a gigantic spring-loaded African mask scaring off a burglar. No amount of anything could ever come close to the onslaught of sheer joy-spurred images he was assaulted by.

The man attempted once more to organize his rampant thoughts into some semblance of sense. He had absolutely no idea what to do. Wendy had worded her incredibly sensual and intimate desire in the form of the most powerful and binding agreement in the known universe, and Dipper knew full well what would happen if he refused to complete it. He had to do it, and he wanted to do it, but try as he might, his hands refused to respond to the commands of his brain. They remained firmly in place around the woman's stomach. He tried to speak, but the words simply died on his tongue.

"I-I...well...uh..."

Wendy chuckled softly at his flabbergasted expression. She found him to be so irresistibly cute whenever he was flustered. The beautiful woman eased back and up onto him, tilting her head as far back as it would go. Her rich, pale colored spheres tugged plaintively up in the clutches of the dress, and did not help to suppress Dipper's thought process.

"Heehee, c'mon Dipper, massage my chest. You have to do it. It's a solid," she teased, pushing herself against him, narrowing her eyes and smiling alluringly at him. "Besides, it'll be sooooooo much fun and relaxing for the both of us."

Giggling seductively, she gently took hold of his hands.

"Here, let me give you a hand."

"Wait, Wendy, what are you...?"

Before Dipper could even register what was happening, Wendy had taken his hands and firmly cupped them over her ample bosom. She let out a sharp gasp as his grip tightened instinctively.

The man was completely stunned. The feel of silky fabric from her dress, coupled with the soft, luscious globes of her breasts which now pressed against his palms and fingers, sent his mind into a high-altitude flat spin.

'...Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh...mmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyy...'

Time seemed to decelerate, the next few seconds feeling like an endless eternity. His head was filled with glimmering, pulsating gold. She was soft. She was so soft. He could never have imagined a more beautifully soft surface to touch. She crooned in a whispery voice as he very slowly pressed harder. A new sensation gradually washed over him, an unbelievably profound and wonderful feeling of raw, unadulterated joy. The unexpected closeness he and Wendy now shared with each other was unlike anything he had ever experienced in the entirety of his twenty year life, and it felt absolutely incredible. Dipper found himself regaining control over his senses, and his mind was suddenly devoid of unstructured chaos and commotion. He smiled deeply, his face radiating with unabashed happiness and warmth.

"Dipper..." she quavered, pressing his hands deeper against her chest, sending a delicious wave of pleasure coursing through her body. "Please Dipper? Please?"

Dipper fought an intense battle inside his own head with all the sides of himself. Each different aspect of his consciousness and morality sat around a round table and threw napkins, plates, anvils, railway signals and severed heads at each other, shouting uproariously. The more adamant, unabashed side began to win out after the others ran out of such objects to throw.

The subconscious firefight having finally ceased, Dipper smiled even wider than before.

Everything made crystal clear sense to him now; any and all apprehension now completely vanished from his person. He looked at Wendy with an expression of absolute adoration, gazing deep into her lovely green eyes.

"I'd love to, Wendy," he stated sincerely. "Anything for you."

With that, Dipper happily gave into her request, his hands and fingers deftly working her robust cleavage with tender, rhythmic strokes, squeezing them, kneading them through the soft, delicate fabric of her dress. Wendy gasped and cooed as he rounded all over and across her chest, her entire body shuddering as unfathomable waves of sweet, satisfying pleasure overtook her senses.

"Ohhhhh...Dipper...*gasp*...Dipper...mmmmhhhhh..."

She closed her eyes, completely under the spell of his actions, arching her back and wrapping her arms around his neck. The feeling was magical, ethereal, heavenly. Mere words could barely describe just exactly how amazing his touch felt. He loved, adored her mass of completely muscle-less, sensual flesh, which otherwise she had no control over. It was as if this well-guarded part of her existed only for him to please her with. She had never been treated to such a wonderful sensation before. It was pure and absolute ecstasy, and she never wanted the wonderful, exhilarating feeling to end.

As the minutes passed, Dipper found himself getting very much interested in the way Wendy was responding to his sensuous massage, and he experimented with a variety of hand and finger motions, trying to determine which ones gave her the most pleasure and satisfaction. His facial features conveyed nothing but complete love and dedication as he rested his chin upon her right shoulder, nuzzling the side of her head ever so slightly. He loved the way her firm yet malleable breasts molded and conformed perfectly to the contours of his hands and digits. It felt as if he was holding onto the very clouds themselves, able to squeeze and manipulate them in any way he desired. Dipper soon found that Wendy was incredibly sensitive in certain places around her chest, and whenever he would hit one of those tender spots she would gasp and moan wildly, her curvy frame pulsating with spasms of intense joy. He relished in her moans and squeals of pleasure, and would fixate on those spots which made her voice her sensitivity the most. He also enjoyed the way she leaned her head against him, and the way she lovingly caressed his hair. The combination of actions filled the boy's head with wonderful new feelings of passion, desire, and wanting.

A half-hour or more flew by and still the two people remained where they were on the couch, bathed in the electric blue glow of the television set. The movie had long since ended, but neither of them cared about that anymore. They were both completely and utterly engulfed in the sensuous and wondrous experience they now shared with one another.

"Oh, *gasp* D-Dipper...this feels...mmmmmm...this feels sooooooo *gasp* so good!" Wendy cooed passionately.

Dipper let out a devilishly affectionate laugh. "I love making you feel good, Wendy. It's all I ever want to do." She giggled seductively.

"Mmmmmm...I love it when you make me feel good."

"Well, that's because I love you."

Wendy gasped loudly, her cheeks suddenly painted a hue of rose quartz as the words he uttered implanted themselves firmly in her cerebellum.

Those three words...

Those three little words...

Dipper barely had time to react as Wendy suddenly turned her entire body around, wrapping her arma firmly around his neck and gently pressing her lips to his in a passionate, heartfelt, and loving kiss.

For a split second, Dipper was paralyzed, unable to move, but the shock dissipated as quickly as it arrived, intense feelings of euphoria and bliss rushing in to fill the void left in its wake. He kissed her back, closing his eyes as his arms looped tightly around her curvaceous waist, pulling her as close to him as possible, savoring the feel of her soft lips against his. The girl moaned in satisfaction as they deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing playfully with one another inside their mouths, lavishing in each other's unique and exotic taste. After a minute or two, the two lovers broke the kiss, gasping for much-needed oxygen. Wendy gazed at Dipper with an adorable and heartwarming smile.

"I love you too, Dipper," she told him sweetly and sincerely, before kissing him deeply once more.

They kissed and made out for several minutes, fuelled by raw passion and the love they had for one another. Wendy was still awash with unimaginable pleasure from Dipper's intensely intimate massage session, pleasure which did not go away. In fact, it only exponentiated as she and him continued to kiss, and from it stemmed new and even more powerful feelings, ones of incredible longing, desire, lust, wanting, and arousal. She wanted his love, needed his love, desired his love. She wanted to feel his love for her, not just emotionally, but physically.

Wendy broke away from Dipper's lips and looked at him with a sweet, sultry smile.

"Mmmmmmm...Dipper, that massage was incredible. I've never felt this good before. You really know how to turn a girl on." She giggled seductively and began to kiss his neck, causing him to gasp slightly.

"I've been saving myself, just for you," she added alluringly, her lips still planting soft kisses up and down his neck. "I want you, Dipper. I want you to make love to me."

Wendy slowly extricated herself from the man's embrace and stood up, grabbing Dipper's hands and pulling him up off the couch and back up against her, kissing him feverently. She giggled sweetly as he scooped her up into his arms, their lips still locked together in passion as she placed her hands around his neck for support. Holding her gently, he carried Wendy away from the couch and out of the living room, making his way back towards the slightly cracked door which framed the entrance to her bedroom.

Rays of moonlight filtered calmly through the curtained windows lining both sides of Wendy's queen-sized four poster bed, painting the cozy little space in a serene, nebulous glow as Dipper gently creaked the door open with his right foot, passing through the oak-lined portal with the voluptuous red robin cradled safely in his arms, and closing it quietly behind him. He strode over to her bedside and gently deposited her onto the rich, inviting checkerboard of white and lapis lazuli, resting her head comfortably against one of the matching pillows before settling down on top of her, kissing her intensely and running his hands all around and across her dress-clad chest and stomach. Wendy shivered in delight under his intimate touch, gasping sharply as he trailed his lips up and down her neck. They rolled over, and now she was lying on top of him, her lips kissing and nibbling his neck, returning his actions. Dipper relished in the squalor of intense and wonderful pleasure which was building to an incredible fever pitch with each passing second of foreplay. They remained this way for a few minutes, kissing, holding, and rubbing each other sensuously, until Wendy extracted herself from his hold and sauntered over to the foot of her bed, her hips swaying seductively as she did so.

Dipper knew exactly what she was about to do, and it only made him desire and want her more than ever. In slow motion, Wendy reached behind her back and clasped the small black zipper which held up her dress, drawing it down in one fluid sweep of her arm.

The fabric cascaded down her curvy figure, revealing translucent, silky, strapless lingerie colored a lovely shade of violet. She flicked the dress away with her feet and immediately removed her undergarments, casting them aside without a care as to where they landed. Wendy stood before him, skyclad, her skin shimmering in the gentle caress of moonlight. She assumed an incredibly sexy pose, resting her hands on her hips and giggling.

"Well, how do I look?" she asked huskily, a sweet smile crowning her lovely face.

Dipper had to stifle a gasp as his eyes traveled up and down the woman's unclothed figure, drinking in every inch of her exquisitely curved and sculpted form; her beautiful face, her soft chest, her trim, petite abdomen, her delicious legs. She was gorgeous, an Aphrodite, the picture of pure and absolute female perfection. The scene before him was something he had only viewed previously within the confines of his deepest sexual fantasies, only this time; it was astoundingly and wonderfully real.

"Like a goddess," Dipper told her truthfully. "Wendy, never in my life have I seen a creature as rare and beautiful as you are." She blushed and giggled, her face beaming with pure and complete happiness and love.

"Oh Dipper, you're so sweet," she cooed seductively. "Alright, now it's your turn."

Not wasting a second, he quickly shed his dress shirt, pants and tie, throwing them to the floor. It was Wendy's turn to hold back a gasp as her eyes moved up and down his figure, putting a hand to up to her mouth and blushing once more. She had seen him in only his trunks numerous times before, but tonight, the circumstances were much, much different, and it was quite apparent to her that he was just as turned on as she was. A devilish smile crept across her face.

'Oh wow...Dipper...oh, you don't know how much I'm going to enjoy this.'

Wendy returned to the bed and set herself on top of Dipper, straddling him as he drew the thick, patterned covers up, over, and on top of them, its weight gently pressing them down into each other. She kissed him deeply, their tongues dueling inside their mouths as he ran his arms freely up and down her back. The feel of her bare form and her soft, flesh against his, coupled with the way she moved her hands all over and across his chest and back was absolutely divine. Dipper gently rolled her over and broke the kiss, gazing down at her lovingly as he readied himself, about to prove to the robin his complete and undying love for her in the most special and intimate manner known to exist.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this, Wendy?"

"Yes Dipper, I'm ready," the girl responded tenderly. "I've been dreaming of this moment ever since that day when I first realized I loved you. I want to cherish and remember this special night forever, with you."

Dipper smiled warmly and lowered himself back down onto her as their embrace tightened, his lips meeting hers in a fiery kiss. With one gentle, fluid motion, the two lovers made that final, fulfilling leap together, and united their bodies in love, departing forevermore from the dreary, lonesome shores of loneliness and out into an endless, infinite sea of deep, wondrous intimacy. All at once, the great and mysterious workings of the heavens above, the earth, the moon, the stars, planets, and galaxies, the very fabric of time and space itself, suddenly seemed to cease in their endless, perpetual motion as they reveled in the incredible feeling of their confluence.

They moved together in perfect synchronicity, falling into a steady rhythm. Dipper ran his hands all around Wendy's luscious form as he kissed her with unrelenting fervor, his mouth slowly migrating down her neck and onto her firm, supple chest. Wendy moaned and purred, submitting completely to his wonderful, hypnotic motions as she rounded all over him, wave after wave of rich, deliciously satisfying pleasure spreading all throughout her perfect figure. Her cries of unrestrained, sensuous joy were sweet, invigorating music to the man's ears as he explored her curves, making her quaver and spasm wildly against him. Dipper and Wendy could feel themselves reaching their absolute limit with each passing moment of ecstasy, the dams which held back their pent up sexual energy for years slowly succumbing to the joyous forces of their lovemaking. Moments later, the barriers finally gave way. Wendy gasped and squealed, gripping Dipper tightly and completely as they reached that incredible first peak together, their bodies shuddering under the massive force of a long and powerful torrent of overwhelming, satisfying release.

The feeling was indescribable, incomprehensible; something beyond their wildest and most vivid and memorable of dreams. It was pure and absolute sexual Nirvana. The massage session undoubtedly paled in comparison to the harmonious experience they were now taking part of.

Dipper and Wendy fell back into each other, he landing on top of her, pushing her down into the bedding with his full weight, panting heavily from the effects of their climax, pressing their lips together in heated passion as they continued to make sweet, wonderful love together. They rolled and shifted underneath the bedspread, kissing, fondling, groping, stroking, and rubbing all around, over, and across each other's bodies, gasping, moaning, giggling, and cooing under the intoxicating sensations of lust and pleasure. The love they had for one another was unlike any that could ever be described in all the known scribed and spoken languages on this green earth. It transcended the very forces of nature and defied the clockworks of the great celestial mechanism which bound the heavens to structured, regular order. The lovers reached a second pinnacle, shockwaves rippling throughout their bodies as they gasped and cried out in pleasure.

An hour or more passed, and still Wendy and Dipper remained together, moving in time to a wonderful rhythm of intimate action. Five times they had peaked together, and even though both of them never wanted this moment to end, they were beginning to grow extremely tired; the sexual energy which fuelled their intimate exploits gradually waning. Once more their passion reached a final, powerful outburst and they finished together. Wendy squirmed and cried out with pleasurable delight as her lithe frame bucked and gyrated under the tremendous magnitude of her release, collapsing on top of Dipper's chest and kissing him deeply. They held each other tenderly, their breathing sharp and heavy as they bathed together in the warm and wonderful afterglow.

"Dipper...oh my god...Dipper...that was...that was so incredible!" Wendy panted euphorically, nuzzling into his chest, his soothing warmth spreading throughout her body.

"I know...," gasped Dipper, breathless. "I've never felt...felt so good." He pulled her closer against his chest and planted a tender kiss on her forehead, his right hand stroking the back of her head with soft, gentle motions. "Weeeenndy." He relished the name in his mouth like a delicate piece of fruit.

"Mmmmmmm...neither have I," purred the girl. She flashed him a mischievous smirk and giggled. "I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of you, Dipper. I can't wait to do it again." She began kissing his neck.

"In fact, I want to make love with you as often as possible."

"Is that so?" he asked, chuckling slyly. "I could get used to that. Y'know Wendy, you do owe me a solid." She looked up at him with a sultry smile, giving him several quick pecks on the lips. "Mmhmmmm...that I do...anything you have in mind, perhaps?" she inquired playfully, running her hands across his chest without restrain.

"Ohohohohooo...I'll think of something soon enough, don't you worry about that," smirked the man. "However, I can still do this..." He quickly rolled Wendy over and kissed her fiercely, tongues entwining and frolicking together inside their mouths as he ran his hands all over her pert breasts, enticing short moans of pleasure from her. A minute later he broke the hold, burying his face in her chest as she giggled softly. Dipper's warm, compassionate gaze soon met hers, his hands gingerly caressing her rosy cheeks.

"I love you so very much, Wendy," he told her sincerely, with all of his caring heart and soul. Tears of happiness formed in the girls beautiful green eyes as she kissed him with all her love and passion.

"I love you too, Dipper," she smiled radiantly as he gently wiped away her tears.

They kissed passionately once more, trying to further stave off the exhaustion which began to consume their bodies. It was obvious to them, however, that they were fighting a losing battle.

No longer wanting to resist the welcoming presence of much desired rest, the two new lovers turned over a final time. Wendy rested her head against Dipper's chest, sighing contentedly in his warm, safe, and wonderful arms as they cuddled close and pulled the covers snugly around them. Their breathing shallowed, chests rising and falling together in perfect synchronicity.

"Goodnight, my beautiful lady," Dipper crooned lovingly, kissing her forehead. Wendy giggled softly.

"Goodnight, my handsome man," she replied sweetly.

Under the covers of the warm and inviting bed, inside the cozy little room painted in ethereal lunar glow, Dipper and Wendy lay snuggled up blissfully in each other's arms, recalling the memories of this wonderful, magical night which they shared together, waiting for the soothing winds of sleep to catch their sails and guide them safely beyond the horizon line, away from the shores of the waking world and out into the calm and peaceful realm of dreams. In the span of a single night, their lives were forever changed in the most wondrous and amazing way possible. They were now whole, complete, two souls in one, eternally entwined; and even though the roads of a welcoming new life ahead lie shrouded in the fog of uncertainty and unpredictability, the absolute and inextinguishable love they now shared together would always show them the way, lighting brilliant, everlasting fires of hope within their hearts.

...and to think, it all began with the most unusual of requests.


	11. Godzilla

The sun was setting as the C-17 approached the city at an altitude of 35,000 feet, which was believed to be safely above the Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms' sphere of influence. Seated in the cargo bay with the other troops, Dipper Pines assumed there had been some evidence to support that assumption. Even so, he caught himself holding his breath as the plane came over the city. Crashing the Globemaster into the middle of downtown wasn't going to do anyone any good.

The low bass hum of the plane's engines continued uninterrupted, at least for the present. Dipper chose to take that as a good sign as he peered out a window at their destination. Thick black smoke and heavy cloud cover largely hid the city below, but he could dimly make out immense shapes grappling in the haze. It appeared that the monsters were already locked in mortal combat. They charged at each other like divine beasts out of myth and legend.

_Good,_ Dipper thought. _Maybe they'll keep each other occupied while we deal with the warhead._

He removed the family portrait from his pocket and contemplated it one last time. The Pines Family as they once were, as he and Wendy and their daughter, Andrea could still be, if they survived the perilous hours ahead. It felt as though, one way or another, the unbearable trial that had tested his family for fifteen years was finally coming to a close. He hoped that, against all odds, they could still arrive at a happy ending somewhere down the line.

Glancing around, he saw that the other HALO jumpers were each preparing themselves in their own way. Photos of loved ones were cherished and heads were bowed in prayer or meditation. Everyone appeared deep in thought, searching for the courage and will to do what needed to be done, as well as remembering why exactly it mattered so very much. Across from Dipper, a redheaded young soldier prayed softly to himself, reading aloud from a pocket Bible:

"… now as we leave one another, remember the comrades who are not with us today. 'And He will send His angels with great trumpets.'"

The loadmaster's booming voice roused everyone from their private thoughts.

"One minute, one more time!" he announced. "No comms at all down below. Use your flares to stay together!"

The rear bay doors opened and a ferocious rush of air drowned out any further discussion. Row by row, the HALO jumpers rose from their seats and headed briskly toward the ramp. The first in line ignited their flares and leapt out of the plane.

_Here we go,_ Dipper thought.

Dipper returned the photo to his pocket and got his oxygen mask in place. HALO stood for High Altitude, Low Opening, which made the breathing apparatus a must. Joining the line, he made his way toward the ramp. Despite his resolve, he felt more than a flicker of trepidation. He was a Navy bomb disposal tech, not a Special Forces guy. He didn't have a lot of experience with HALO jumps.

He didn't hesitate when his turn came, however. Sucking down a deep breath of O2, he threw himself out of the plane… for Wendy's sake.

The roaring in his ears went away, and the world went strangely quiet. All that could be heard was the thin air whistling faintly above the clouds. He extended his arms and legs to slow his fall, as he'd been instructed, while accelerating toward terminal velocity. Dozens of paratroopers free-fell through the darkening sky. Blood-red smoke trailed from the blazing flares strapped to their ankles as they descended toward the embattled city like falling angels, minus the trumpets. Lightning flashed in the turbulent clouds and smoke below. Thunder rumbled, but Dipper had no idea if it was coming from the storm or the clashing monsters or some dreadful combination thereof. His own flare ignited as he plunged into the clouds.

Falling at nearly 125 miles per hour, he passed quickly through the clammy mist, somehow managing to avoid being electrocuted by a random bolt of lightning. The downtown area—or what was left of it—came into view. The devastation was staggering. Describing Godzilla may seem simple, just some large dinosaur that's over hundred meters seemed easy enough to say, but there was more to the ancient being that humanity just stared at amazement and fear.

His true name was Gojira in Japanese, though it properly translated in English pretty well. Japanese mythology described the creature as a combination of a gorilla and whale, a mythical beast that roams the Pacific waters while old tribes in the neighboring islands of the Pacific used to sacrifice people to ward off Gojira so he remains in deep slumber. But the beast of mythology was now a beast of fact, now decimating the once prosperous city of San Francisco, making it nothing more than a battlefield of Titans.

Godzilla's very appearance struck the hearts of the brave soldiers free falling, especially to Dipper since they had heard only rumors of Godzilla. But here he was, an ancient dinosaur still in it's prime, even after millions of years in slumber, the creature still managed to maintain an omniscient presence, even just by mentioning his name alone.

Godzilla's mass rivaled those of the MUTOs, since he had an extremely muscular body, his black hide covered in thick, rough, crocodile like scales, able to withstand multiple blows of the MUTO's attacks, despite having such a bulky body, the beast could still move quickly enough to strike devastating blows to his foes with his sharp claws and powerful jaws, his back and tail were lined up with straight and sharp dorsal plates, retaining a maple leaf shape to them, while the behemoth's face had an ancient but still threatening look, focusing his furious reptilian glare at the MUTO foes, with fire burning in his eyes, determined to destroy the MUTO menace while all the human soldiers could do was ignore the monster threat, feeling like all they were now are ants compared to the true giants that fought before them, who were more than just lumbering beasts who wander the earth and cause destruction with no purpose.

They were Gods. And what he'd already witnessed overseas, Dipper was shocked by what he saw as he free fell.

A giant sinkhole, much like the one in Japan, had swallowed Chinatown. A wide path of destruction, like the one in Hawaii, had torn across The Embarcadero to Telegraph Hill, where Godzilla and the male MUTO could be glimpsed fighting amidst crumbling high-rises and residential buildings. Clouds of smoke and dust billowed up from the war zone. Fires blazed within the demolished buildings. As in Honolulu, Godzilla had the advantage of size over the other monster, but the male appeared in no hurry to retreat this time. The winged creature was standing its ground, with the surrounding neighborhoods paying the price. Angry snarls and screeches were punctuated by crashing buildings. Thunderclaps, reverberating overhead, provided a percussive soundtrack to the cataclysmic tussle, whose outcome seemed far from certain. It was survival of the fittest—on a grandiose scale.

Dipper dropped between rows of buildings that blocked his view of the battling monsters. He tugged on his ripcord and was yanked upward as his main canopy deployed. A square, "ram-air" parafoil inflated above him and he used the steering toggles to come in for a landing on a rubble-strewn street somewhere in the ruins of the Financial District. He touched down with an awkward stutter-step onto the cracked and broken pavement, without actually falling or breaking anything, and stumbled to a halt.

_Whew,_ he thought. _Made it._

He was relieved to be back on solid ground again. Tugging off his oxygen mask, he took a deep breath of real air, which smelled of smoke and ash. He glanced around warily, but did not spy any monsters in his immediate vicinity. Smashed skyscrapers jutting up from the ravaged streets suggested that the monsters had already passed through this district, leaving little intact. Night had fallen so that only the glow from scattered fires illuminated the darkened city. From the sound of things, however, the beasts were still raging several blocks away. It dawned on him that he'd had yet to see the female MUTO, the one that had attacked the missile train. He had to assume that it was abroad as well.

_Better keep my eyes out for that bitch,_ he thought.

Shedding his parachute, which was draped over the rubble, he hastily rescued a rifle and flashlight from his gear bag and fitted the light to the barrel of his gun. A gust of wind blew aside the voluminous nylon canopy, exposing charred human bodies lying amidst the debris, half-buried beneath fallen chunks of masonry. A blackened arm stretched lifelessly from beneath a mass of crumbling concrete and rebar.

_More collateral damage,_ Dipper realized, of the timeless feud between Godzilla and the MUTOs. He winced at the sight, wondering briefly whom the burned bodies had belonged to and what families would mourn them, but he also knew that the death rate would skyrocket unless he and his comrades completed their mission and disarmed the stolen warhead. He had to keep moving.

Anxious to reconnect with the others, Dipper looked up and down the damaged and deserted streets. The unsettling darkness failed to mask the extreme damage done to his hometown. Once known as "The Wall Street of the West," the Financial District now looked as though the Big One had finally hit. Gleaming towers of glass and steel, built to withstand all but the most powerful earthquakes, were now smoking husks. A toppled skyscraper leaned precarious against its neighbor. Broken glass, mangled steel beams, and crumbling blocks on concrete littered the streets and sidewalks. Elevated sky-bridges had crashed to earth. The Transamerica Pyramid, once the tallest structure in the city, was missing its tip and several of its upper stories. Abandoned cars, trucks, and buses had been crushed by falling debris.

Dipper stared aghast at the devastation. The monsters had done all this—in less than an hour?

A titanic roar jolted him back to the crisis at hand. Dipper spotted more soldiers running up a street one block over. He hustled after them, readying his gear on the run. A rifle hadn't done him much good against the female up in the mountains, but he sure as hell wasn't going to go up against the creatures unarmed. Better to go down fighting if he had to.

Panting, he caught up with several other soldiers. An EOD specialist named Gabe was busily assembling a device that resembled a Geiger counter, while the other soldiers conferred tersely, comparing notes on what they'd seen on the way down. Dipper figured that some of them were still coming to grips with laying eyes on the monsters for the first time.

Gabe finished assembling the tracking device. It started clacking immediately, especially when he pointed it up toward Chinatown, where the warhead was reported to be.

"We're moving up the hill," their jumpmaster said gruffly. "Keep it spread out. Move out!"

The soldiers took only a moment to get their bearings before jogging up Grant Avenue. Within minutes, they passed through the ruins of the "Dragon Gate" at the southern entrance to Chinatown. Fallen ceramic tiles shattered beneath their boots, while the head of one of the gateway's two guardian dragons stared up from the rubble. Advancing into the heart of Chinatown, they hurried past trampled shops, temples, banks, and restaurants. An upended cable car lay on its side, squashed bodies spilling out of it. A street lamp crafted to resemble a bright red pagoda leaned precariously over the obliterated avenue. Colorful flags and banners lay trampled on the ground. As they neared the crest of the hill, the infernal orange glow of an unseen fire could be seen through a dense wall of smoke. The veiled flames, and the clacking of the tracking device, drew the troops on.

_Getting warmer,_ Dipper thought. _Let's hope we don't run into any company._

One by one, the soldiers warily entered the haze. Dipper found his visibility cut almost to zero and relied on the flashlight mounted on his rifle to pierce the smoke. He aimed the beam at the ground before him to keep his footing, but then his flashlight dimmed. He smacked it with his palm, hoping to restore it, but the beam kept flickering. By now, Dipper knew that meant.

A MUTO was near.

He wasn't the only soldier experiencing technical difficulties or aware of their significance. He spied other flashlights sputtering in the smoke. Alert troops hefted their weapons and took cover behind wrecked and overturned cars. Dipper darted behind a crushed SUV. The jump master, Quinn, whistled and put a finger to his lips, signaling quiet.

_Damn right,_ Dipper thought. The last thing they wanted to do was attract a monster's attention.

But while the rest of them kept quiet, the tracking device was clacking louder than ever. Dipper flinched at the racket as Gabe aimed the device straight ahead at the smoke and flames. He nodded at Quinn, who got the message.

The warhead was close.

The wall of smoke thinned out, revealing the female crouched above the giant sinkhole Dipper had spotted from above. An involuntary shudder went through Dipper; the last time he'd seen this creature, it had been tearing apart the bridge and locomotive in the mountains, sending his comrades Nate, Lee and others to their deaths. It hadn't gotten any less terrifying in the interim. Its six lower limbs straddled the pit, while its smaller forearms were still large enough to qualify as enormous. Drool dripped from its beak. Its bony carapace caught the glare from the fires. Lightning flashed overhead; Dipper wondered again if the MUTO was somehow causing it.

Hunkered down behind the available cover, the troops shared frustrated looks. The warhead was apparently down in the sinkhole somewhere, but how were they supposed to get past the female to reach it? Dipper glanced at his ticking wristwatch. Time was running out.

Now what?

Dipper was stumped, uncertain how to proceed, when booming footsteps shook the night. The thunderous tread triggered immediate flashbacks to Honolulu Airport—and his first sight of an even more colossal monster than the MUTO guarding the pit. The ground shook beneath Dipper. Looking back, he already knew what he was going to see.

Godzilla lumbered toward them, cresting the hill behind them. His eyes narrowed as he spied the female. He dropped into a defensive crouch, like a fighter preparing for battle. He threw back his head and roared loud enough that Dipper's heavy-duty helmet provided no protection at all. There was no mistaking the primordial fury in that roar; Dipper realized in horror that he and the other soldiers were stuck between the two monsters.

The female responded to the challenge with a defiant howl of its own. It sprang from the sinkhole and skittered across the ruins to face Godzilla. Endangered troopers dashed out of the way of her great, clawed limbs. Dipper saw a hind leg crashing down toward him and dived for safety only seconds before it flattened the crumpled SUV he had been hiding behind. Rolling across the broken pavement, he saw the MUTO slam into Godzilla with extreme force. Grappling furiously, they tumbled down the hill, disappearing into the smoke and fog.

This is our chance, Dipper realized.

The soldiers sprinted toward the unguarded sinkhole, peering down over its rim. The size and depth of the pit was even more impressive up close; it was possibly even bigger than the sinkhole that had swallowed the nuclear power plant in Japan. At least a block of homes and buildings appeared to have fallen into the pit. Dipper did not relish climbing the crumbling, debris-strewn slope in search of the missing warhead. Fires burned down in the stygian depths of the abyss. Smoke rose from below.

Gabe employed his tracker. Rapid clacking pointed the troops toward an open fissure leading down into the side of the sinkhole. A hellish orange glow emanated from what looked like small cave opening. Dipper felt the heat of burning wreckage as the soldiers cautiously ventured through the entrance and found themselves inside an uprooted Victorian row house, hanging upside-down from its foundations. An inverted staircase looked like something out of an M.C. Escher drawing. Tinny music issued from an antique music box lying sideways on the ceiling. Dipper felt as though he'd stepped through the looking-glass into some sort of surreal fever-dream.

_This just keeps getting weirder and weirder,_ he thought. _I can barely remember what normal is anymore._

The troops hurried through the capsized house and out an open doorway. Leaving the bizarre setting behind, they found themselves faced with an infernal vista that could have easily passed for the lower pits of Hell. A huge cavernous burrow had been carved out beneath Chinatown, littered with debris from the ransacked city above. Bits and pieces of the city were strewn about randomly. An overturned gasoline tanker was partially buried in the rubble. A bronze dragon guarded heaps of broken refuse. A church steeple lay on its side.

They descended to the floor of the cavern. Thankfully, their flashlights were working better now that the female had charged off to fight Godzilla. Bright white beams soon located a huge organic shape hanging like a stalactite from the ceiling above them. It took Ford and the others a moment to realize that they had found what they were searching for: the nuclear warhead was encased inside layers of a hardened, translucent secretion. The outermost layers of the shell were still wet and viscous. They oozed slowly down the sides of the trapped weapon.

Dipper gazed up at the suspended warhead. He could only assume that the male had brought his prize to the female, perhaps as some sort of courtship ritual. No doubt those scientists back at base would have a theory to explain how it all worked, but Dipper didn't care about that right now. All that mattered was disarming the bomb before the detonator went off.

_At least we've found it,_ he thought hopefully. _Perhaps we still have a chance._

A tremor shook the cavern, causing dust and gravel to rain down on them. It felt like an earthquake, but Dipper knew better. The earth was shaking because of the titanic conflict being waged above. Godzilla had hunted the MUTOs halfway around the world, but now the chase was over and the final battle was underway.

With a nuclear warhead added to the mix.

* * *

><p>Godzilla clashed with the female in the blazing ruins of the Financial District. Sky-high smoke and flames provided an apocalyptic backdrop to their savage combat, which was being fought furiously amidst the demolished skyscrapers. Godzilla snapped and slashed at the female, who locked her jaws onto his scaly shoulder. The mighty saurian towered at least fifty feet above the vicious, multi-legged parasite and was significantly heavier and stronger as well, but female did not back off. Grimacing in pain, Godzilla tore himself free from the MUTO's fangs and spun away from her. His spiked tail whipped around to lash the female, who was sent tumbling down Broadway, carving out another swath of destruction. Her flailing arms and legs smashed through buildings large and small. Flames and explosions erupted in her wake.<p>

Sensing victory, Godzilla closed in for the kill. The desperate female hurriedly righted herself and swung one of her clawed middle arms at Godzilla, but he dodged the attack and charged forward to pin her against a high-rise office building. The MUTO thrashed and screeched as Godzilla pummeled her with his fists and snapped at her twisting head and thorax. His jaws were going for her skull when the entire building suddenly collapsed under the force of the struggle. A mountain of sundered steel and concrete caved in on the female, burying her beneath the debris.

Snarling, Godzilla loomed above his fallen foe. He raised his right foot over the female, preparing to squash her into the ground, when the male came swooping down from the sky to defend his mate. The winged MUTO barreled into Godzilla, knocking him off his feet. Locked in combat, the monsters rolled across the district, grinding landmark buildings into dust. Their growls and screeches were matched by the rumble of disintegrating hotels, banks, and museums.

The earth shook all the way up to Chinatown.

The seismic shocks were coming fast and furious, causing the entire cavern to tremble and heaps of debris to shift in an unsettling manner, but Dipper and the other soldiers redoubled their efforts to liberate the ticking warhead from the hard, resin-like substance it was encased in. They had already managed to break the weapon loose from the ceiling and lower it to the floor of the cavern; now they were chipping away at the sticky secretion with the butts of their rifles. Concentrating on the tip of the re-entry vehicle, they managed to expose enough of the casing that, grunting with effort, they could begin to pry off the nose cone.

_Here it comes_, Dipper thought. _Almost there…_

To his surprise, the remaining secretion began to pulse with light. Did we trigger that with our hammering, Dipper wondered, or was it the tremors? The cool effulgence grew in intensity and began to spread throughout the cavern. The soldiers backed away momentarily, caught off-guard by the unexpected bioluminescence. The glow rippled upward to light up the entire cavern. Dipper glanced at the ceiling, where the wavering light now appeared to be concentrated, and gasped in shock.

No longer hidden in darkness, thousands of bulging egg sacs hung from the ceiling, which was positively encrusted with the pulsing organisms. Dipper recalled the photos shown to him upon the Saratoga as well as the egg he had briefly glimpsed on the underside of the female MUTO in the mountains. As nearly as he could tell, these new sacs were identical to the ones found in the Philippines fifteen years ago. The ones that had eventually spawned the two MUTOs.

They've already mated, he realized, and this is their nest.

The fertilized eggs continued to flash, as though reacting to their food source being disturbed. Something had to be done about the eggs, Dipper knew, but first they needed to deal with the warhead or nothing else mattered.

The nose cone came loose, clattering onto the floor of the nest. The soldiers huddled around the exposed warhead and detonator. Flashlight beams penetrated the small window above the timing mechanism. The intricate gears continued to turn and engage, ticking down to Armageddon. Moving carefully, despite the urgency of the situation, the men took hold of the warhead by a set of metal handholds and eased it out of the cone-shaped reentry vehicle.

_Easy does it,_ Dipper thought.

Godzilla was outnumbered two to one. Acting in tandem, the MUTOs circled their relentless foe, who was undaunted by the odds against him. His eyes narrowed in anticipation of the parasites' attack. His nostrils flared and he bared his fangs. He roared defiantly, challenging the MUTOs. He had not come all this way to shrink from the battle.

The MUTOs were prey. Dangerous prey, but prey regardless. They had to be destroyed.

Howling in unison, the MUTOs pounced on him from above and below.

* * *

><p>A tremor shook the subway platform, causing dust and debris to rain down from the ceiling. Trapped underground, while giant monsters overran the city above, Wendy Corduroy-Pines and throng of other frightened people backed away fearfully from the thunderous impact. A baby cried in the arms of a young couple who huddled together fearfully, protecting the child with their own bodies.<p>

Alone and scared, Wendy didn't know whether to envy them for being together or to be thankful that Andrea was hopefully far from the embattled city by now. Probably a little bit of both.

She squinted at her phone. There were no new messages from Dipper, not that she was likely to get a signal down here. She hoped to God that he was safe and on his way to find her. But would there still be a city left by the time he got here? It sounded like armies were clashing up above.

The lights flickered overhead and her phone died. People gasped and looked up in alarm as the lights sputtered and died, throwing them all into the dark. Panicked people screamed. Blackness swallowed them, so that all that was left was fear—and the earth-shaking sound of monsters destroying the city.

_Be careful, Dipper,_ she thought. _Wherever you are._

* * *

><p>The soldiers lowered the heavy warhead onto the floor of the nest. Divorced from its massive rocket boosters, the warhead was still at least ten feet long and five across. On closer inspection, it was obvious that the casing had been badly damaged during its travails. Gabe tried to pry open the access panel to the timer, but the metal was warped and refused to budge. Quinn and a few of the others added their strength to his, but it was no use. The latch was jammed.<p>

"It's sealed shut," Gabe said. "We need time to get this open!"

"We don't have time," another soldier objected. "Let's haul it out of here!"

Dipper shoved his way to the front of the huddle and knelt down beside the warhead. He extracted a kit from a Velcro pocket on his flight suit. He unsealed the kit to expose a set of intricate tools, including screw drivers, crimpers, surgical scissors, forceps, tweezers, and a dental mirror. They were similar to the tools he had used to disarm any number of explosive devices in Iraq and Afghanistan. He had never used them on a nuclear bomb before, but…

"I can do it!" he insisted. "Just give me some light!"

Flashlight beams converged on the latch, providing a steady white light that Dipper vastly preferred to the rippling glow of the agitated egg sacs. He tried to tune out the pulsing bioluminescence, and the rumble of the warring monsters, to concentrate on the task at hand. The warhead was the primary threat now. Everything else, even Godzilla, was secondary.

_I can do this,_ he thought._ I have to do this._

* * *

><p>The city trembled as Godzilla dropped to one knee, besieged by the MUTOs. The parasites' combined assault was enough to stagger even the mighty leviathan. The male dived at him from above, gouging Godzilla's dorsal fins with his claws. Broken shards of fin rained down onto the pulverized streets, adding to the heaped debris, even as the female sprang at Godzilla, slashing at his throat with her talons, which sliced through his scaly armor to the vulnerable flesh below. Blood seeped through the bony plates. The female howled triumphantly.<p>

Godzilla reeled beneath the joint attack, but did not fall. His maw opened wide and, choking and gasping, he exhaled a gust of rippling, super-heated vapor. A spark ignited at the back of his throat and a searing blast of blue-white fire sprayed from his jaws.

Taking the full force of the Godzilla's volcanic breath, the female screeched in agony and collapsed in a heap of twitching arms and legs. Her chitinous exoskeleton was scorched and blackened in places. Ichor leaked from cracks in her shell. Eight limbs vibrated spastically. She wasn't dead, but she had been hurt and stunned by the blistering incendiary attack. Unable to defend herself, at least for the moment, she was ripe for the kill.

Godzilla climbed back to his feet, like a mountain thrusting up from the earth, and glared at the downed female. He opened his jaws once more, intending to incinerate her completely, but as his fiery breath flared up the male flew in low overhead and clapped his iridescent black wings together. A luminous pulse rippled through the air and snuffed the bioelectric spark in Godzilla's throat. The draconic flames belching from his jaws sputtered and died out.

Godzilla blinked in confusion. Smoke billowed from his nostrils. He tried again to summon his most powerful weapon, but felt only an irritating tickle within his gullet. The spark refused to ignite. The flames would not come.

Frustrated, he glared at the soaring male, whom had interfered with his kill. He snarled and gnashed his fangs. His tail whipped back and forth in anger.

The male had done this to him. The male would suffer.

* * *

><p>Flashlight bulbs exploded inside the nest, so that only the glow of smoldering wreckage and the strobe-like luminosity of the hanging egg sacs lit up the underground burrow. Startled soldiers swore profanely.<p>

"Another EMP!" Gabe exclaimed.

"Bulb just blew," another EOD specialist blurted. "I'm out."

Still trying to get at the bomb's sealed timer, Dipper squinted at the jammed latch, which was stubbornly resisting his efforts to get it open. The dimming light only made his task harder. He could barely see what he was doing.

"I need more light," he said.

In charge of the operation, Quinn made a command decision. "Time for Plan B. Let's get this thing out of here! Come on, come on!"

Dipper understood the man's reasoning. If they couldn't disarm the bomb, then maybe they could still get it out to sea before the warhead detonated. He stepped back and let six burly soldiers hoist the warhead by the handles on each side. Grunting in effort, they toted it back the way they'd come, retracing their path up the rubble-covered slope to the inverted doorway of the topsy-turvy Victorian home. Gathering up his tools, Dipper hurried after them, only to pause on the threshold of the buried house. He glanced back over his shoulder at the multitude of pulsing egg sacs encrusting the ceiling. There had to be dozens of the eggs, each capable of hatching yet another MUTO.

The enormity of the threat was not lost on Dipper. Two MUTOs were bad enough, but an entire swarm of them?

_Uh-uh,_ Dipper thought. _Not a chance._

He signaled the other men to go on without him. One way or another, he had to end this.

* * *

><p>Godzilla and the male faced off amidst the burning skyscrapers. They eyed each other warily, each seeking an advantage or opening. The MUTO glided between the surviving high-rises, keeping just out of reach of Godzilla's outstretched forearms and claws. Baring his fangs, Godzilla dared the male to get closer.<p>

But the standoff gave the female a chance to recover from Godzilla's fire breath. Singed and smoking, she rose up on her hind legs and lunged at Godzilla. Hatred burned in her crimson eyes. She screeched in rage, out for revenge.

The male attacked simultaneously.

The upended gasoline tanker was right where Dipper had seen it before, partially buried in debris on the floor of the sinkhole. Dipper clambered up the exposed underbelly of tanker to reach the pipe valve and hammered at it with the butt of his rifle. He was beyond exhausted, but adrenaline and fear for his family kept him going. A couple of solid whacks bent the valve. Encouraged, Dipper pounded it again—and the valve snapped off altogether.

Fuel gushed from the pipe, the gasoline smell invading Dipper's nose and mouth. The fuel spilled down the belly of the tanker onto the floor of the pit, where numerous small fires still smoldered. The gas washed over the bronze dragon and the other debris, streaming toward the flames.

Dipper wasn't going to stick around for the fireworks. Leaping down from the tanker, he landed roughly on the loose debris, twisting his ankle. Despite the pain, he sprinted out of the cavern, making tracks for the surface. His boots pounded against the ceiling of the upside-down Victorian.

This was going to be close.

The MUTOs pressed their attack, ganging up on Godzilla. He staggered backwards down a wide, wrecked boulevard, inflicting yet more damage to the city with every faltering step. His jagged fins scraped against a red granite building, shredding its elegant façade. Gasping for breath, he choked on the swirling smoke and ash and the volatile gases filling his lungs. He tried to burn it all away, but his hot breath caught in his throat, scalding it. Boiling blood and saliva trickled down his gullet.

The male strafed him from above, clawing at Godzilla's head and shoulders. A half-dozen talons went for his eyes, and Godzilla barely managed to keep them at bay with his snapping jaws. The female sank her fangs into his neck, holding back his muscular forearms with six arms of her own. Godzilla roared in pain, wanting to fry her to ashes, but could muster only a faint crackle of electricity in his throat, which wasn't enough to ignite the fire. His tail lashed the air, striking only a historic clock tower, which was knocked off its foundations. The tower crashed into an adjacent building, which collapsed onto the block beyond, the wholesale destruction going unnoticed by any of the battling monsters. Bricks and mortar cascaded down onto the battered streets and sidewalks. Flames burst from ruptured fuel lines.

Godzilla was losing ground. Cold reptilian blood streamed from deep bites and claw marks in his scaly hide. The frenzied battle reopened the wounds he had sustained from the planes and tanks. Blood loss sapped his indomitable strength. Weakening, he dropped to one knee, crushing a covered bus stop and an ornamental fountain beneath it. His jaws snapped impotently, unable to latch onto either foe. He growled feebly, grimacing in pain, as the male's claws carved another chunk out of his fins. A beaked jaw pecked at his skull, while the female's fangs embedded themselves deeper into his throat. Down on one knee, it was all Godzilla could do to keep semi-upright. The MUTOs had him on the defensive.

He was fighting for his life—and he was losing.

Breathing hard, his heart pounding, Dipper had just made it out of the pit when he heard the gasoline-flooded sinkhole burst into flames. A tremendous whoosh of heat and light came rushing up from the underground nest. Dipper kept on running, desperate to put plenty of distance between himself and the newborn inferno, but his boot caught on a fallen street sign, slowing his escape.

_Damn it!_

He yanked his boot loose a moment too late. The pit exploded in flames behind him, throwing burning debris in all directions. The force of the explosion flipped Dipper and sent him flying away from the blast. An enormous fireball erupted from the butchered heart of Chinatown.

Thick black smoke enveloped Dipper and everything went dark.


End file.
